After not being able to speak to Penelope at the Innovations Ball, Colin ponders why he suddenly got tongue tied.
My submission for Polinween Week 1, 2024 - 'I Put a Spell on You'
Rating: General
TONGUE TIED
He was cursed.
He must be. It was the only explanation.
He’d wager it was that Debling fellow. He’d clearly picked up some kind of magical trinket on his many travels and decided to use it against him.
The aggravatingly self-satisfied way the Lord had looked at him when he’d claimed Penelope’s hand for their dance all but confirmed it surely?
Colin knew there were many strange things in the world that couldn’t be easily explained away. He’d seen many a baffling sight while on his tours around the Continent.
Debling had been far further afield than he, so it was logical that he had experienced even more.
Yes, that must be it, he decided.
For there was no other reasoning as to why his words had suddenly left him in that way. Leaving him looking like a stuttering imbecile who couldn’t even speak to his dearest friend.
And Penelope was dear to him.
So very, very dear.
He let out a frustrated groan and sat down heavily on the edge of his bed. Leaning forward, he put his head in his hands. Mortification spiralled through him, bringing heat to his face as he recalled just how awkward he’d been earlier.
Truly, he’d acted like a young whippersnapper in his first throes of a boyhood crush. He’d never had words fail him like that before. He always had a ready quip or charming platitude and yet, when it finally meant something, he’d come up wanting.
With a huff of irritation he stood, arms falling to his sides as he began to pace about his room. He’d never felt this helpless, this…useless before.
He hated it.
It had been so clear in his mind what he’d wanted to say, but once he’d stood in front of her, all he could do was stare. It was as though that unforgettably, incredible kiss they’d shared weeks ago had completely removed his ability to function around her in any meaningful way whatsoever.
He paused and frowned.
Come to think of it, maybe it was Penelope that had cursed him.
He shook his head. No, not cursed.
Enchanted.
Beguiled.
Bewitched.
One kiss and he’d been utterly and irrevocably hers.
It had stunned him at first, just how quickly everything within him had shifted. Like a puzzle box clicking into its final place before opening up to reveal what had been hidden there the entire time if only he’d had the sense and foresight to truly look.
It felt like he’d wasted years not recognising what had been in front of him this entire time.
And now, just when he’d finally seen her, Penelope was interested in another.
He ran a hand through his hair in agitation, pulling on the ends, relishing the slight sting of pain. It diverted him from the near constant ache in his heart.
Was this love then?
Having Penelope consume his every thought day and night?
Having this constant urge to see her, to touch her, kiss her…just be with her.
It seemed that love itself was a spell. An invisible, magical aura that weaved itself around the heart and wrenched every single emotion from a person until they were feeling quite mad with it.
Well, that’s how it felt to him at least. Especially as he had no notion as to whether Penelope even regarded him as anything else other than a friend.
It was what he’d hoped to determine this evening after speaking to his mother. When she’d told him of his father gathering his courage, he knew he had to do the same.
But that was before he’d stood there enthralled with her beauty.
Before he’d become tongue tied with fear that she might reject him.
Before Debling had intruded and he’d watched mutely, painfully, as she’d taken the other gentleman’s proffered hand.
He shook his head. He didn’t consider himself a violent man but, for a moment there, he could have gladly wiped that supercilious expression from the Lord’s face with his bare hands.
But he hadn’t. He’d just stood and forced himself to watch them. Tried to act as if every single second wasn’t absolute torture for him.
And when she’d smiled at Debling…that had been like a knife directly into his heart.
He took in a deep breath and let out a long, shuddering exhale. He could still feel the pain of it now, hours after he’d left the ball. It had been there when he’d bid Pen a stilted goodnight upon leaving. It had been there while he’d pasted an overly bright smile on his face during the carriage ride home with his family and he feared it was going to be there for a long time to come.
Especially if he couldn’t find the bravery to confess his feelings to her.
His hand twitched and he felt a sudden urge to write. Maybe if he put down in ink what he needed to say, then perhaps the pain would ease – if only for tonight.
He hurried out of his room and into the study then sat down behind the desk. Grabbing a sheet of paper, he smoothed it out in front of him and dipped his quill into the ink. With a flourish he began to write, then stopped moments later with a groan and tore the paper to shreds. Thrice more he tried, yet nothing seemed right. It was either too flowery or too blunt or…just not right.
Something simple and concise that conveyed all he felt was what was needed. He thought for a moment more, then it came to him. Once done, he folded the paper and placed it into the desk drawer for safe keeping.
He would decide tomorrow if he would ever give it to her, but in the meantime it appeared to have done the trick. He felt a little lighter…and overwhelmingly fatigued.
Checking the time, he saw that it was the early hours of the morning. He headed back to his bed chamber and lay down on top of his bed, not even bothering to undress.
Sleep claimed him quickly, for which he was grateful, because in his dreams Penelope always awaited him, loving him equally in return.
The next day dawned brightly with sun shining and blue skies without a cloud to be seen.
Penelope has just finished her morning cup of tea when Varley entered the drawing room holding a letter.
Portia looked up expectantly, but the housekeeper handed it over to her daughter instead.
“For you, Miss.”
“Oh, thank you,” she replied in surprise.
Not recognising the writing on the front, she broke the seal and out fluttered a folded sheet of paper. Curiously, she opened it up and read the short missive;
“My dearest Penelope,
Long have I loved, but some strange spell forbids my heart its tale to tell.
Here, take this letter and simply feel, the love my lips cannot reveal.
Yours always,
Colin”
Penelope gave a little gasp, immediately drawing her mother’s attention.
“What is it? Does Lord Debling write to you?” she enquired with a hopeful smile. “He did seem quite taken with you last night. I think he might offer for you soon, Penelope, if you are lucky.”
“Uh…no, mama, it is not from Lord Debling,” her daughter admitted falteringly, still trying to take in the enormity of the letter’s contents. She summoned a weak smile and folded the note before adding, “It is from Madame Delacroix. She has my new dress ready earlier than I had expected.” She stood abruptly, the china cup rattling in its saucer as she bumped into the table in her haste. “I must – uh – g-go and see her to collect it.”
Portia watched Penelope almost run out of the door and shook her head in bewilderment.
“Another new dress?” the woman muttered to herself. “At this rate she shall have no more pin money left.”
Penelope went into her bed chamber and shut the door behind her with a slam. Breathing heavily, she leaned back against the wooden frame and quickly opened the letter once more. She read and re-read his words, her heart skittering in her chest as her world tilted on its axis.
Colin loved her?
Truly?
Colin Bridgerton?
After years and years of loving him from afar, she could hardly believe it but there it was, his words, written in his hand. She let out a little laugh and clapped a hand to her mouth as she blinked back tears of joy.
She needed to see him. To look into his eyes and know it was really true.
She picked up her shawl and wrapped it around her shoulders then left her room and headed downstairs. After telling Varley that she would be back later, she exited the house, maid in tow and letter still tightly gripped in her hand.
Soon she knocked on the door of Bridgerton House and asked her maid to wait while she was shown directly to the drawing room just as she used to be. Belatedly, she felt a dart of apprehension that she might see Eloise, but to her relief, and a little disappointment, Violet was the only one present.
“Penelope, it is good to see you,” the older lady greeted warmly. She put down the needlework she had been doing and rose to give the redhead a hug. “Are you here to see Eloise? Have you two mended whatever ailed you these past months?” she asked hopefully.
Penelope cleared her throat and shook her head, suddenly realising how wildly inappropriate it had been for her to visit. Not only unannounced, but also to see her ‘eligible male friend’ with whom she’d already caused their families more than enough gossip around the Ton.
“No, forgive me, I-I was hoping to find Colin at home but I see he is not, so I’ll just take my leave,” she said in a rush, feeling decidedly uncomfortable.
“There is no need for that, my dear, he is just outside in the garden,” Violet told her helpfully as she darted a quick glance down at the paper Penelope held onto tightly. Smiling, she put her arm around the girl and led her out of the room. “Come, I’ll help you find him.”
“Oh, no, I…”
“It is no trouble I assure you and I am certain that Colin will be very pleased to see you,” Violet interjected decisively.
The man in question was sat slumped in a chair by a table, staring off into the distance. It was only when his mother called out to him that he turned, his eyes widening as he saw who was with her. He immediately stood and tugged his waistcoat down as he gave the ladies a small bow.
“I shall see about some refreshments for you both,” Violet announced before turning away with a knowing smile and heading back inside.
Colin glanced at the footman standing nearby then turned his attention back to his love, his gaze warming as he took in her appearance this fine morning.
She really was quite beautiful, he thought as his eyes drifted down admiringly over her form before suddenly flicking back up to her hands.
Hands that were unfolding a piece of paper that she was now holding out towards him.
“Is this what you were trying to tell me last night?”
The words were soft, barely above a whisper but he heard them as clearly as if she’d spoken them directly into his ear.
His stomach lurched.
It was his letter.
His mind raced as he tried to fathom how it came to be in her possession. He was certain he had hidden it away. It should be impossible. It was impossible, was it not? And yet there she stood, holding it in her hands. His thoughts, his feelings for her, reduced to a few lines that barely did the depth of his affection justice, scribbled down on a piece of paper.
“Colin?”
His name jolted him and his gaze snapped up to meet her cerulean eyes. They were swirling with a regard that he was accustomed to and it suddenly gave him pause. She had always looked at him like that he realised. A mixture of warmth and hope and longing and…and…
“I…”
He shook his head slightly, still staring at her. He dared not put a name to that emotion in case he was wrong. He couldn’t bear it.
“It wasn’t?” she asked, confusion colouring her tone. Abruptly, a red hue flooded her cheeks and she started to back away, looking anywhere but at him. “Oh, forgive me…”
Without thinking he reached out to take both of her hands in his, the paper scrunching up under his firm grasp. Penelope froze and glanced down, then back up to give him a searching look. He stared deep into her eyes, hoping to convey even a little of what he felt because he knew that this was the moment that everything between them would change.
He just very much hoped that it would be for the better.
Taking a steadying breath, he nodded and a small smile touched his lips as he told her emphatically, “Pen, of course that letter is what I wanted to say to you last night. In fact, it is what I have wanted to say to you for weeks now.”
“Is it?”
She sounded doubtful, her gaze still searching his for the truth and he couldn’t blame her. Not so long ago he was helping her to find a husband. A husband that decidedly wasn’t him and now the thought of anyone else fulfilling that role made him feel quite murderous.
“It is,” he assured her again, willing her to believe him.
After a moment, she gave him a tentative smile.
“I never thought you’d see me as anything more than your friend,” she admitted quietly.
“And you wished to be?” he asked, staring at her intently, hardly daring to hope that she might return his feelings. “More than friends, I mean?”
Penelope nodded, her smile growing surer.
“So much more,” she replied emotionally.
It took a few seconds for her words to sink in, but when they did, Colin raised her hands to his lips and kissed them ardently on the back.
“I wish to kiss you properly,” he breathed, his gaze dipping briefly to her parted lips as he took a small step closer, “But not here where anyone can see.”
“Perhaps a turn around the garden then?” Penelope suggested eagerly, glancing over at the footman who was stoically keeping his eyes averted from the young couple.
Colin nodded then let go of her hands and held out his arm to her with a bright smile upon his face. Penelope grinned back then quickly slipped her arm through his and they set off looking for a more secluded part.
Once in the shade of a large, copper beech tree, out of sight of prying eyes, he pulled her close and gently cupped her cheek before kissing her deeply on the lips.
“I love you,” he declared earnestly when they finally parted.
“And I love you, Colin,” she told him fervently, elated that she could finally say those words to him after all her years of yearning.
Colin laughed with happiness then pulled her in for another kiss.
He had no idea how Penelope had come to have his letter that day. Be it by supernatural forces or, as he firmly suspected, something a little closer to home, he was just grateful that he no longer had to hide how he truly felt about the beautiful woman in his arms.
So I crossed my thoughtless heart
Spread my wings like a parachute
I'm the albatross
I swept in at the rescue
The devil that you know
Looks now more like an angel
I'm the life you chose
And all this terrible danger
So cross your thoughtless heart
She's the albatross
She is here to destroy you
The planets and the fates and all the stars aligned
Penelope is a scrupulous witch, always following the rules —except when it comes to Colin Bridgerton. When things involve him, or fighting for his heart, she decides to disobey and risk everything.
An Archive of Our Own, a project of the
Organization for Transformative Works
Polin (Bridgerton) Fae AU | Chapter 7: A Lesson in Spellcraft
An Archive of Our Own, a project of the
Organization for Transformative Works
Summary: Colin and Penelope worked on an experimental spell.
Excerpt:
“It looks like. Well. If I may?” Penelope began, then looked to him for permission. With a nod from him, her fingers delicately wrapped around his. She began guiding his hand through the motion. “Focus on the feeling of belonging. Of immersing in the calls of your domain. Your fingers are shaking…”
Holding hand with your friend (platonically?) can be rather intimate:
Colin stood in the middle of Weasleys’ Wizard Wheezes that weekend, his eyes scanning the colourful chaos of the shop. He wasn’t even sure why he was there—maybe it was a way to escape his own thoughts, or perhaps he was simply drawn to the familiar buzz of magic and laughter. Either way, he wandered aimlessly, hands tucked in his pockets, until his gaze landed on a shelf lined with love potions.
The swirling pink liquid in the small vials seemed to shimmer, catching his eye. Colin’s stomach twisted with something he didn’t want to admit was longing. He missed Penelope. Not just as a friend, though he still valued that bond, but something more had grown between them. Or at least, something more had grown in him—a hunger, a need to be close to her in a way he had never imagined before.
He stared at the love potion, biting the inside of his cheek. It would be so easy, wouldn’t it? Just a drop of the shimmering pink liquid, and Penelope would be his, even if only for a little while. She would look at him the way he had always dreamed, her lips would curve into that sweet smile meant for him, and maybe, she would finally want him in the same way he wanted her.
Read more on AO3:
An Archive of Our Own, a project of the
Organization for Transformative Works
An Archive of Our Own, a project of the
Organization for Transformative Works
Summary:
Sept 29 – Oct 5 I Put a Spell on You
Colin invited his siblings over to watch a horror movie but everyone had to cancel and Pen was the one that showed up. She is terrified of scary movies and ends up attached to Colin on the couch the whole night.
