RUST - Chapter 8 - A Polin Fic
Chapter 8 – Snap, Snow and Interruptions
Penelope had overslept.
Not a huge surprise considering she’d lain awake most of the night. Apparently, it was going to be harder to forget being in Colin’s arms than she’d thought.
And now she’d woken up late. Late enough that by the time she’d showered, dressed and hurried downstairs, everyone else had already had breakfast.
“I’m so sorry,” she apologised contritely to Violet when she entered the kitchen. “I set the alarm on my phone but must have slept through it.”
“Well, it’s not surprising,” the older woman replied with a smile. “You’ve had an eventful couple of days.”
That was an understatement.
Penelope made a murmur of agreement and switched the kettle on.
“Go and sit down, I’ll do that for you,” the older lady insisted, shooing her away. “Do you want anything to eat?”
“Just some toast would be lovely, thank you.”
Violet nodded approvingly, already reaching for the bread. The kitchen was warm, low winter sunlight streaming through the tall windows and catching on the polished surfaces. Somewhere deeper in the house she could hear the distant hum of voices and the occasional burst of laughter.
Penelope sat down at the large wooden table and stared at the seat opposite. It was funny how people gravitated to their place. She’d sat in this spot the morning before when they’d arrived and then again for dinner the previous evening. This seat felt like hers now, weirdly.
Just like the one across from her was Colin’s.
A faint crease formed between her brows as her thoughts drifted back to the night before.
Dinner had been…nice.
After Colin had walked out earlier in the day, she had half expected him not to return. In fact, because she hadn’t seen him until they all sat down, she’d fully convinced herself he had left.
It was what he did.
Even before Marina, Colin had always possessed a restless streak, but afterward it had evolved into something closer to retreat. When things became uncomfortable, he simply…removed himself.
So, when he appeared in the doorway just as they were about to sit down, she nearly sagged in relief.
Not for herself, though she could not entirely deny that part of it - but for him.
She had not wanted what had happened between them to send him running. Aubrey Hall had been absent enough from his life already. Whatever ghosts lingered here deserved, at the very least, the chance to loosen their hold.
And she wanted him to have this time with his family. He’d held himself back for so long now. Too long. Whether he wanted to admit it or not, Colin needed them. And they needed him.
He took his seat opposite her, offering nothing more than a brief nod and small smile before turning his attention to the conversation around him.
She felt a pang of disappointment at that, though she really couldn’t have said what she’d expected instead.
Turning away, she pushed the feeling aside and let herself get drawn into the chatter as well. The food was good, but it wasn’t until she started her second glass of wine that she realised that Colin kept looking at her.
A sly glance here, a brief look there when he thought she wasn’t aware, his gaze always sliding away whenever she caught him – until it didn’t.
Benedict launched into a particularly ridiculous story that had the entire table dissolving into laughter and she looked over at Colin instinctively, the grin on her face fading when she found him already watching her.
He held her gaze, a ghost of a smile on his lips, but then Gregory said something that pulled his attention away, and the moment was gone.
When it was time for dessert, their hands brushed as they both reached for the cream.
“Sorry,” he murmured quietly.
But he didn’t immediately draw back. His hand lingered, the barest fraction of a second, warm against hers before moving away.
It was nothing.
Less than nothing, really.
And yet the fleeting contact caused her breath to hitch and her cheeks to warm and she knew he’d seen it.
Later, after dinner, Violet went to help Kate get the boys ready for bed. Penelope had just started to follow the rest of the family as they drifted toward the drawing room when Anthony asked if she might spare him a moment.
She went with him to his study, bracing herself for their conversation, but she needn’t have worried. He was kindness itself, merely wanting to ensure she was certain of her decision. When she told him that she was, he stared at her a moment as though weighing the truth of her words, then gave her a curt nod and thanked her for everything.
She wanted to say that she didn’t need thanks. That she’d been glad that she could be there for Colin, but she bit back the words and merely nodded instead.
As she left his study, she was surprised, and a little apprehensive, to find Colin leaning against the opposite wall, waiting for her. He straightened at once and ran a hand roughly through his hair as he slowly approached.
“I owe you an apology,” he started without preamble.
She looked at him in puzzlement.
“For what?”
“For telling everyone that you’d resigned,” he said, darting a glance at the closed door behind her. “I shouldn’t have done that.”
“It’s all right,” she assured him quickly. “Really.”
“It’s not,” he insisted firmly. “It was unfair and then I left you to deal with it all alone. It was wrong of me and I’m sorry, Penelope.”
There was a sincerity there that made her chest tighten.
“Thank you,” she replied softly.
His shoulders eased a fraction and then he glanced at the door again.
“Did it…go all right with Anthony?”
She smiled, touched at his concern even though his brother never directed the more mercurial side of his nature at her.
“Yes. He was fine,” she assured him, then, not knowing what possessed her, she added with a small, forced laugh, “And don’t worry, he’s probably arranging that new PA you wanted for you, as we speak.”
He drew in a sharp breath at that, a pained look flashing across his face before he quickly schooled it into something more neutral. Then he took a step away from her and cleared his throat.
“Right,” he said after a moment. “Of course.”
Guilt sliced through her at his reaction. It had been a petty thing to say in the face of his apology and, instinctively, she reached out to him.
“Colin, I didn’t mean…”
Suddenly, the study door opened and Anthony appeared, his startled gaze moving rapidly between them as she hurriedly dropped her hand.
“Everything all right?” he questioned carefully.
“Yes,” Colin answered quickly.
Anthony’s eyes lingered on him, then narrowed.
“We should talk.”
Colin immediately shook his head.
“Not now. Tomorrow. I was just on my way up; I’ve got a bad headache.”
Anthony looked as though he might argue the point, then thought better of it. His expression said it all anyway. He didn’t believe a word of it.
“Very well,” he said at last.
Then, after one last searching glance between his brother and Penelope, he left them alone.
Silence descended between them briefly, then Colin was the first to speak.
“Well… goodnight then, Penelope.”
She stared at him in dismay, but it was clear from the rigid set of his face that he had no intention of revisiting their conversation.
“Goodnight,” she muttered in response.
Without looking at her again, he walked away and left her standing there staring after him, the distance between them suddenly feeling far greater than the length of the corridor.
“Here we are, my dear.”
Penelope blinked and the present rushed back. Violet set a mug of tea before her along with two thick slices of toast, butter melting invitingly into the golden surface.
“Thank you,” she said gratefully, wrapping her hands around the hot drink.
Violet sat down and watched her for a moment before speaking.
“I’m glad you’re finally doing something for yourself,” she said gently.
Penelope looked at her, startled.
“I’m sorry?”
“Eloise mentioned that you’ve decided to focus on your writing.”
A small knot formed instantly in Penelope’s stomach. She hoped that was all that Elosie had told her mother.
“Oh. Yes. It’s something I’ve wanted to do for a long time.”
Violet smiled and nodded.
“I remember,” she told her fondly. “When you were younger, you were always writing in your notebook or making up stories for Gregory and Hyacinth.”
“Well, I’m hoping I’ve improved a bit since then,” she replied wryly before biting into a slice of her toast.
Violet laughed.
“You must promise me you’ll send word when it’s finished. I expect a signed copy.”
Penelope chuckled at the other woman’s certainty.
“You may be waiting quite some time,” she warned.
“I doubt that very much. You’ve never struck me as someone who begins something without every intention of seeing it through,” Violet told her assuredly.
“I’m glad you have so much faith in me,” she replied, warmed by the older woman’s words. It meant a lot to her.
There was a brief pause before Violet spoke again, her tone softer now.
“I imagine Colin will miss you terribly of course.”
Penelope felt her stomach roll again and reached out to have a sip of her drink.
Would he? Maybe for work. But after the last couple of days, she wasn’t so sure it’d be anything else. She would miss him though. So much.
“I’m sure he’ll manage perfectly fine once he finds someone new,” she finally said, summoning a smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes.
Violet regarded her with quiet steadiness.
“My dear, I don’t think even Colin fully understands just how much he has relied upon you these past few years.”
Heat crept into Penelope’s cheeks.
“We do work well together and I…”
“No,” Violet interrupted gently. “I wasn’t talking about work.” The words settled heavily between them and Penelope could feel her face grow even hotter. “You were there during a time when he shut so much of the world out,” she continued. “You showed him patience…kindness…understanding. I have wanted to thank you for that for a very long time.”
Emotion rose unexpectedly in Penelope’s throat.
“You don’t need to thank me,” she managed. “I care about him.”
“Yes,” Violet acknowledged quietly after a moment, “I know you do.”
There was something in the older woman’s tone, the lack of surprise, perhaps, that struck her.
And in that moment, she realised that Violet knew.
Maybe she always had.
Penelope dropped her gaze to her tea, suddenly very aware that whatever she had thought she’d hidden over the years had never truly been invisible.
Violet reached across then and gave her hand a light squeeze before rising from her chair.
“Now,” she said briskly, as if nothing of consequence had passed between them, “finish your breakfast, dear. I’ve got to go and make sure the rooms are ready for Daphne, Simon and the children. They’re going to be here soon.” She paused then, her gaze drifting briefly toward the window before returning to Penelope. “It will be good to have the house full again,” she added softly. “Especially this year.”
Penelope’s throat tightened.
She knew exactly who Violet wasn’t naming.
This would be Francesca’s first Christmas without John.
The first of many quiet absences that would settle into the spaces he had once occupied so easily.
Penelope nodded, unable to trust her voice for a moment and dutifully picked up a slice of toast. When Violet left, she put it back down again uneaten and let out a heavy sigh.
Nothing stayed the same.
Not families. Not circumstances. Not people.
After Christmas, things would change. She would go back to London. Colin would return to work. Life would go on. It’d just be different.
Not wanting to dwell on it too much, she got up and disposed of her toast, then rinsed out her mug and placed it, along with the plate, into the nearly full dishwasher. Setting off a cycle, she headed out of the kitchen and went in search of Eloise.
She’d only got as far as the foot of the stairs when she heard a familiar voice.
“…and I can’t believe you’re stooping to cheating.”
Colin.
A small, indignant voice answered him.
“I am not cheating!”
And Edmund.
The library door was ajar and curiosity drew her a closer. Through the narrow gap she saw them on the rug before the fire, cards scattered between them. Colin sat cross-legged, jumper sleeves pushed up and Edmund was opposite him holding a stack of cards.
Kate was seated on the sofa nearby with Miles tucked against her side, a book open in her hands. The younger boy’s attention drifted repeatedly from the story to his brother and uncle on the floor who were having a light-hearted argument about the rules of the game.
Apparently, you couldn’t say ‘snap’ every time you placed a card down ‘just in case’.
Something softened in her chest.
This was the Colin she remembered. The one who had once built blanket forts in this very room. The one who used to make the younger children shriek with laughter until Violet threatened to banish them all outside.
For a moment, she stayed and watched, rooted to the spot. He looked younger somehow. At ease. So different from the stoic man she’d grown accustomed to seeing daily at work. The guardedness that always lingered at the edges, ready to be slammed into place at a moment’s notice, seemingly absent for once.
It was wonderful to see, and she couldn’t quite decide whether that comforted her…or stung.
Edmund slammed a card down triumphantly.
“Snap!”
“Oh! You absolutely did not,” Colin protested, scandalised.
Edmund grinned in defiance and Colin threw his head back and laughed, the sound bright and unrestrained as it echoed against the high ceiling.
The movement shifted his line of sight and his gaze landed on her.
Penelope drew in a quick breath at being seen and instinctively took a small step back from the doorway.
She hadn’t meant to intrude and certainly not be caught watching. She found herself bracing for the moment she saw the familiar tightening of his expression. For the laughter to stop and the guard to go up.
Especially after how they’d parted last night.
But, to her surprise, it didn’t come.
Instead, his grin gentled into a warm smile.
“Penelope,” he called out. “Come and help me, he’s making up rules as we go along.”
“I am not!” Edmund denied with a grin then added cheekily, “You just don’t know how to play!”
Colin gave an exaggerated gasp.
“I absolutely do. I invented Snap.”
Now it was Edmund’s turn to gasp.
“You did not!”
Colin chuckled and held up his hands in defeat.
“You’re right, I didn’t, but if I had that would definitely be one of the rules.”
Edmund collapsed into laughter.
Colin shook his head, then glanced back at her.
“Come on, Pen,” he entreated, patting the floor next to him. “Join us.”
“Yes, then I can beat you too,” Edmund declared, looking at her with a grin.
Steadfastly ignoring the little flutter her heart gave at hearing Colin calling her ‘Pen’, she arched her brow and stepped properly into the room.
“Oh? Is that so?” she challenged, walking over to where they both sat.
“Easy,” the boy declared confidently.
She caught Kate’s amused glance from the sofa and smiled back before lowering herself onto the rug beside Colin. She sat closer than she’d meant to and as he leaned forward to gather the cards his knee nudged lightly against her own.
She glanced over at him, certain he hadn’t noticed. But when she tried, subtly, to shift a fraction away, he adjusted too, simply settling his knee back into place against hers.
He began to shuffle the cards, eyes fixed on the deck. If he was aware of what he was doing, he gave no sign and now she couldn’t move again without it becoming obvious.
So, she stayed still and told herself that the warmth rising in her cheeks was from the fire and not the man who was always in her thoughts.
He deftly dealt the cards out and she picked them up, ready to start. His gaze flicked to her and then to Edmund and he smiled.
“Ready?” he asked them both.
At their nods, they all laid down their first card.
Penelope didn’t hesitate.
“Snap,” she declared sharply, slapping her hand down on the pile.
Both males froze.
They stared at her.
“What? I thought that’s how the game was played,” Penelope claimed innocently, glancing between the pair.
Edmund burst into laughter.
Colin looked at her in wide-eyed disbelief for a second, then his composure cracked.
A reluctant huff escaped him first…and then he laughed too.
Penelope found herself joining in, a giggle spilling out before she could stop it.
She withdrew her hand and turned her attention back to the cards.
The game resumed, loud and chaotic and, for a while, she forgot entirely about the corridor, the apology, the distance that had stretched between them the night before.
Soon, she noticed that Miles was watching them more and more. He moved away from his mother and edged closer to the arm of the sofa, chin resting against the cushion as though to better observe them.
It took a couple of rounds before Miles slid off the couch altogether. She saw Colin smile to himself then widen the circle slightly by shifting even closer to her and leaving a small, unspoken space beside him.
The boy hovered for a moment, uncertain, then sank carefully onto the rug at his uncle’s side.
Without a word Colin halved his stack of cards and offered them out to him.
Miles glanced up at him then took them from him cautiously.
“Do you know how to play?” Colin asked, gently.
The boy nodded once.
“Good, well, let’s see if we can beat your brother then,” he suggested in a stage whisper that earned him a soft giggle in response.
Penelope smiled, watching the exchange, watching the way Colin angled himself slightly toward the boy, lowering his voice, giving him that small, private attention that engaged the child.
As though sensing her gaze, Colin glanced over at her and their eyes met.
For a moment, neither of them looked away and she felt that familiar tug at her heart. The quiet, enduring love she’d thought she’d made peace with, strengthening even more.
Then Miles patted his arm.
“Uncle Colin, it’s your turn.”
The spell broke.
Colin blinked then flashed his nephew a quick smile before clearing his throat lightly and placing a card down with deliberate care.
Penelope looked down and tried to focus on the game again. Cards slapped the floor in quick succession, hands darting in and out of the growing pile, shoulders brushing as they leaned forward in competition. Edmund sprawled further across the rug with every round, while Miles edged closer into the circle, his movements growing bolder as his confidence did.
Penelope let herself relax fully into it. She no longer thought about how close they were sitting or how often their hands brushed as they reached for the same stack. It simply became part of the game.
Across the room, Kate watched them with quiet interest, her expression thoughtful each time Colin shifted a fraction toward Penelope or when she instinctively leaned into him without thinking.
They’d been playing for nearly twenty minutes, when, faintly at first, the sound of voices drifted down the corridor. Footsteps followed, accompanied by the unmistakable echo of a child’s laughter.
Kate’s gaze flicked toward the door.
“That,” she said lightly, “sounds very much like Daphne and Simon have arrived.”
“They’re here!” Edmund cried excitedly, scrambling to his feet.
Penelope rose more slowly and followed the family out toward the hall. By the time she reached the foot of the stairs, Daphne was already inside, cheeks flushed from the cold as she held Belinda’s hand, Simon behind her with Caroline perched on his hip and August dragging a small overnight bag that appeared far too heavy for him.
Snow clung in melting patches to the shoulders of their coats as a gust of winter air followed them in, at odds against the warmth of the house.
August abandoned the bag halfway across the tiles and ran straight toward Edmund, who collided with him in a tangle of arms and shrieks. Belinda slipped free of Daphne’s grasp and hurried after them, her boots thudding against the floor.
Simon shifted Caroline higher on his hip with practiced ease, brushing a kiss to her rosy cheek before lowering her carefully to her feet. She blinked solemnly at the commotion before toddling after her siblings.
“Goodness, I’m sure it’s colder out there than they said it was going to be,” Daphne laughed softly, unwinding her scarf, her gaze sweeping warmly over the assembled family.
“I’m just glad that you all made it safely,” Violet told her daughter as she gave her a welcoming hug.
Soon everyone took their turn in greeting the couple and exchanging a few words before standing aside for someone else.
Penelope noted that Daphne hugged Colin a little longer and had a quiet conversation with him, her happiness at having her usually absent brother there for a change, obvious.
It wasn’t long, though, before the children’s attention shifted to the snow visible through the tall windows. It had begun to fall again, the flakes coming down lightly and adding to the already thick blanket that covered the grounds.
“Can we go outside?” Belinda demanded.
“Yes!” Augie chimed in.
“Can we, Dad?” Edmund beseeched, looking at his own father.
Simon and Anthony exchanged a look.
“I don’t mind taking them outside while you get settled in,” Anthony offered.
Simon nodded. Without the kids around it would also allow certain wrapped parcels to be taken discreetly upstairs.
Soon enough the garden doors were flung open and a stream of bundled up figures poured out into the cold. Colin, Penelope, Eloise, Kate, Anthony, Benedict, Hyacinth and Gregory shepherded the children into the garden while everyone else stayed inside.
The air outside was freezing with crisp snow laying in an untouched stretch of white that was almost blinding.
Not that that stopped Kate. She wasted no time at all declaring teams before anyone could protest, claiming Anthony as her opponent with the kind of anticipatory delight that spoke of longstanding rivalry.
Knowing how heated things could get between the siblings, Penelope suggested that she take Caroline to make a snowman instead. Eloise said she’d help and they only gone a few yards before shrieks erupted behind them as Kate launched a snowball at her unsuspecting husband striking him squarely in the chest.
With an outraged yell, he lobbed one back and the fight began.
Eloise and Penelope hurriedly guided the toddler away toward a quieter patch of garden where the snow lay deeper and undisturbed. Together, they began to roll the first large ball for a snowman.
Caroline helped by patting at the growing mound with mittened hands and offering firm instructions that neither Penelope nor Eloise fully understood, yet answered very seriously.
They made steady progress as behind them the fight grew louder. Penelope smiled at some of the good-natured banter she heard and crouched beside Caroline to start rolling another ball for the body.
She allowed herself one glance toward the fray.
Anthony and Kate were bickering. The children were shouting. Benedict appeared to be regularly shifting allegiances while Hyacinth and Gregory seemed to be locked in their own personal battle.
And Colin…
Colin stood off to one side, cheeks red, hair dusted with snow and laughing as he dodged one throw then returned his own with precision.
It warmed her to see him look so happy.
As though aware of her attention, he suddenly turned his head and looked at her.
She quickly looked away and turned back to Caroline, who was sticking her tongue out to capture the swirling flakes that were coming down at a faster rate than before.
“Why don’t you take Auntie Eloise to find a couple of sticks to use for his arms,” she suggested to the little girl.
“That’s a good idea, isn’t it, love?” Eloise asked as she held out her hand for the toddler to take.
Caroline nodded and Penelope watched as they both headed off then went back to finishing the snowman’s body.
She’d just managed to perch it on top of the base when a snowball sailed past her head and landed a couple of feet beyond her with a splat.
The impact startled her enough that she straightened at once, brushing snow from her gloves as she turned to see where it had come from.
Everything seemed just as chaotic as before with everyone milling around, so she put it down to a stray throw and turned back to secure the snowman’s middle more firmly in place.
At that exact moment, another snowball flew.
This one did not miss.
It struck her right across the upper arm, bursting against the front of her coat and sending a scatter of freezing snow onto her face. She let out a gasp of surprise and looked up to see Edmund stood several yards away, arm still half-raised from the throw, grinning widely.
“Edmund Bridgerton!” she exclaimed in mock outrage.
She bent to gather some snow and pressed it into shape as she started toward him.
He shrieked and fled immediately, boots kicking up powder as he zigzagged through the battlefield laughing his head off.
Penelope followed, her own laughter bubbling up as she launched her hastily formed snowball in his direction and watched it sail through the air…then hit Colin square on the back of his head instead.
She stopped mid-step, eyes widening when she saw him jerk forward with a little yelp of surprise as snow burst outward and cascaded down.
Distantly, she heard Anthony let out a shout of laughter and Benedict clap his hands as he called out, “Great shot, Penelope.”
She watched in mortification as globs of ice ran down his neck and under his coat. Slowly, he lifted a hand to brush it from his hair and flick out his collar before turning around to face her.
When his narrowed gaze settled on her, there was a gleam in his eyes that sent a shudder right through her.
“Oh, you’re going to pay for that,” he promised.
She immediately raised her hands in defence but couldn’t stop the sudden burst of laughter that erupted from her mouth as she defended weakly, “It was an accident.”
Ignoring her, he bent down and scooped up a large handful of snow, eyes never leaving her.
Penelope felt a twinge of mild panic and took a step back. Then another as he straightened up and pressed the snow carefully between his palms before taking a step in her direction.
She didn’t wait to see anymore and turned and fled.
Snow churned beneath her boots as she darted across the lawn, weaving between Gregory and Hyacinth. She veered toward the deeper snow, past the half-finished snowman and beyond, trying to get some distance between them.
She could hear him coming after her with an infuriatingly steady stride that suggested he was in no particular hurry because he knew perfectly well he would catch her.
“Penelope,” he called, his mock warning laced with amusement
She made the mistake of looking over her shoulder and seeing that he was a lot closer than she thought, she tried to speed up.
In doing so, her foot sank deeper than expected and caught against uneven ground beneath. She pitched forward with a startled cry, arms flailing about as she lost her balance and fell face-first into the snow, the cold engulfing her in one swift, very humiliating rush.
For a moment she lay there, stunned and breathless, the sound of distant laughter muffled by snow.
Then she rolled onto her back and saw him, snowball in hand, grin spreading slowly across his face as he came to a halt by her side.
She held up both hands in surrender, laughter spilling from her despite the indignity of her position. “No,” she protested, shaking her head. “You wouldn’t.”
“Oh, I would,” he replied easily, looming over her with theatrical menace.
He stood above her, framed against the pale winter sky and packed the snowball once more between his palms as though considering just how merciless he intended to be.
She squinted up at him, half-laughing, half-bracing for impact as he lifted his hand and for one breathless second, she was certain he would drop the snow directly onto her face.
Instead, at the very last moment, he let the snowball fall harmlessly into the drift right beside her head.
Before she could process the reprieve, he pulled his gloves off and shoved them into his pockets then reached down and caught both her hands in his.
His grip was firm and he pulled her upright in one smooth motion. She rose too quickly and her boots slipped again against the packed snow, her balance faltering as she collided into him.
His hands shifted instinctively, going to her waist, steadying her before she could fall a second time.
They ended up chest to chest and his arms slid around her back, bringing her even closer. Close enough that she felt the warmth of him even through the damp layers between them, close enough that her laughter faded into something softer, less certain.
She searched his face, still half-breathless from the fall.
“I’m surprised you let me off so easily.”
A faint smile touched his lips.
“It’s no fun without the chase,” he murmured softly, then his expression shifted, the slightest crease forming between his brows. “You’ve got snow…”
He lifted his hand and brushed his thumb slowly along her cheek, wiping away the lingering traces that clung there. The touch was gentle, almost reverent in its tenderness. His fingers followed the curve of her temple, smoothing a damp curl back into place, lingering as though committing the shape of her to memory.
Her heart set off at an erratic pace as she became acutely aware of where her hands rested against his chest, of the steady rise and fall beneath her palms. She could feel the strength in him, the steadiness, the way his body curved instinctively toward hers as though this closeness were the most natural thing in the world.
His arm around her tightened slightly but she didn’t try to step back, though some sensible part of her knew she should.
Should move and put some distance between them, remind them both where they were and that his family stood only a few yards away.
But standing here now, with his breath mingling with hers and his hand sliding from her hair to cup her face, she couldn’t pretend that she wanted this moment to end.
His palm settled against her cheek, warm and steady, then his eyes dropped to her mouth.
He was going to kiss her.
The certainty of it sent a tremor through her and for one single heartbeat she considered turning her head aside, protecting herself from the inevitability of it.
Instead, her fingers fisted in his coat.
The world seemed to narrow to the space between them, to the feel of his hand against her skin and the heady pressure of his arm at her waist. The noise from the ongoing battle dulled, as though the falling snow had muted everything beyond the sound of their breathing.
He leaned closer.
Just enough that she felt the warmth of his breath brushing her lips and her heart stuttered as his thumb traced lightly beneath her cheekbone again.
His gaze flicked up once more, searching her face, asking permission without words.
In answer she lifted her chin the slightest fraction.
Desire flared in his eyes, taking her breath away with the intensity of it and then…a sudden burst of snow exploded against his shoulder, splattering cold across the both of them.
Colin jerked instinctively and pulled back at once, blinking hard as snow slid down the side of his face.
“You’re it!” Augie’s delighted voice rang out from somewhere behind them.
Reality crashed in all at once.
Penelope stepped back as well, disappointment raging through her as she watched him clearly trying to gather himself. When he looked at her, she could see his frustration burning bright in his eyes, matching her own.
“Pen…” he began.
Her pulse leapt at the sound of her name on his lips.
But the noise of the others intruded on them again. Anthony shouting, Gregory laughing, Hyacinth accusing Benedict of some shenanigan.
She drew in a steadying breath.
“You’d better go,” she said softly, managing a small smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes. “They’re waiting.”
For a moment he didn’t move, and she wondered…hoped for a fleeting second that he was going to finish what he’d started.
But then, albeit reluctantly, he moved away.
He pulled his damp gloves from his pocket and tugged them on again, jaw tightening briefly as he brushed snow from his shoulder and face.
“I suppose you’re right,” he muttered before turning toward Augie and warning gruffly, “You’d better run.”
To his credit, the boy didn’t need to be told twice and, after giving Penelope one last heated look, Colin turned and forced himself to walk away.
As he strode off, he could still feel the heat of her on his hands and the echo of her breath on his lips. For one reckless moment, he had nearly ignored the interruption entirely. Nearly leaned in and kissed her, witnesses be damned.
Instead, now he bent and gathered some snow, then packed it between his palms with unnecessary force. Unable to stop himself, he cast another quick glance over his shoulder and fought the insistent urge to go back.
She was still standing where he had left her, hands pressed to her cheeks now, eyes fixed on him.
His heart missed and he tried to temper his frustration. If he held her gaze another second, he might just abandon all sense entirely.
He turned away and nearly walked straight into Anthony. His brother steadied him with a firm hand to the arm.
“Careful,” he said lightly.
But the look that he gave him didn’t match his tone at all.
It was assessing.
For a brief, uncomfortable moment he wondered how much Anthony had seen.
His brother’s gaze shifted past him, toward where Penelope still stood, and then back again, a faint question lingering in their depths.
He’d seen quite a lot, Colin realised unhappily, resisting the sudden compulsion to try and explain.
Although what the hell he could possibly say, he had no idea.
Thankfully, Anthony didn’t comment further. He simply gave Colin a small knowing smile then turned back and headed into the chaos.
Colin sighed then glanced over at Penelope again and saw her talking with Eloise.
He looked away and tried to focus on the game, but his head was a mess…and completely at war with his heart.
Every thought collided with the next as he sought to make sense of them, while his heart stubbornly pushed in the opposite direction, refusing to be quiet.
Once he’d made that decision to open up with his family, he’d found it had been easier than he’d expected. When Edmund had asked him to play that morning, he’d wanted to. When Miles had tentatively joined them, he’d been quietly pleased by it.
Little by little, he’d begun to feel more like himself again…or at least the version of himself he’d been before he’d withdrawn too far.
The thing was, he knew there was no real danger in that kind of openness. They were his family. They weren’t going anywhere. Perhaps, deep down, he’d relied on that more than he cared to admit. On the certainty that they would still be there when he finally stopped holding himself apart. And, he suspected, even if he’d never quite managed it.
But…with Penelope it was different.
When he’d seen her watching them playing cards, he’d realised she’d meant to slip away and he hadn’t wanted that. He’d wanted her to stay.
In that moment, it had felt simple. Right. He’d only known that her leaving would have dimmed something inside him.
It was only now, after having her in his arms again, that he understood what that meant.
It meant that he had felt there was something very real to lose.
Something that did not come with the same quiet guarantees. She had no ties to him. She could walk away.
She was, in fact, trying to...
And he hated the thought of it.
That was why her comment the evening before had stung so much. It had not been the mention of a new PA in itself. It had been the ease with which she’d said it. As though she assumed he could simply replace her.
As though he wouldn’t miss her.
That she didn’t matter.
So, he had done what he always did when something hurt. He had withdrawn behind his façade. Shut her out.
Shut the pain out.
He needed to work on that, he realised. Especially with her. Because she did matter.
Very much.
Out the corner of his eye, he caught a movement and turned his head. Penelope was walking away toward the house and Eloise was staring after her with a frown.
His stomach lurched, wondering what was wrong, but before he could do anything Hyacinth shouted his name and he ducked just in time to avoid being struck. Instinctively, he launched his snowball at the first person he saw.
Benedict was not pleased when it hit him full in the face.
But even the brief satisfaction of the hit did nothing to ease the frustration that was continuing to build inside him.
He looked toward the house again and saw that she’d disappeared inside.
The urge to follow came quickly, but he knew that if he left now, it would draw more attention than he wanted. So, he stayed where he was and half-heartedly played the game.
To his credit, he lasted a little over ten minutes before he suddenly clapped his gloved hands together to get rid of the excess snow and curtly announced, “I’ve had enough.”
His family would assume he meant the game, but it wasn’t.
It was about Penelope and whatever the hell was happening between them, because it was no longer something he could simply ignore.
He had told himself he could not risk her seeing him.
But staying silent felt worse and he really didn’t want their near-kiss to become yet another thing left hanging between them.
He just needed to talk to her.
Really talk.
He drew in a steadying breath and started toward the house. He’d taken no more than a few steps before a familiar voice cut across the garden, halting him abruptly.
“Going in already?” Eloise called over.
He turned to look at her.
“Yes.”
She studied him for a beat too long, then said, far too casually, “Pen went in a few minutes ago too.”
His pulse kicked once, hard.
“Did she?” he returned, aiming for neutrality and not entirely achieving it.
Eloise’s gaze flicked toward the lawn behind him, then back again. Something knowing passed across her expression and then…she smiled.
“She did,” she declared brightly. Loudly. “Said something about making hot chocolate.”
As if summoned by name, Benedict jogged over next to them.
“Did someone say hot chocolate?”
Within seconds the suggestion gathered momentum and Colin stood there, watching as everyone else decided that they would go in as well.
He fell into step behind them, irritation pricking faintly at the edges of his composure as he shot his sister a glare.
He had wanted to go in quietly and she knew it. Whatever reason she had for playing devil’s advocate he had no idea, but it annoyed the hell out of him.
The house was warm and the change in temperature hit him all at once, making his face sting. Boots thudded against the stone as the children noisily stamped off snow. Damp gloves and coats were discarded and collected by the adults, then put away. The air carried the enticing scent of cocoa and something faintly spiced from the kitchen.
Nutmeg, maybe? Cinnamon, perhaps?
When they all piled in, he saw Violet standing at the counter with Daphne and steam rising from a large saucepan between them. Penelope stood beside them, hair pulled back into a ponytail to keep it out of her face.
Pity.
He much preferred her hair down. And she had changed her clothes, he noted. The jeans and jumper replaced by more comfortable leggings and a midnight blue blouse.
Sophie was seated at the table, one hand resting absently against her stomach as Benedict leaned down to press a quick kiss to her temple before reaching for a mug.
“Hot chocolate?” he asked hopefully, going over to his mother.
“You can have one,” Violet replied firmly, “once the children are settled.”
Colin hovered near the doorway, his gaze never leaving the petite figure standing by the stove.
She glanced up then. Briefly. Just long enough for their eyes to meet across the room before Violet handed her a spoon and said, “Would you be a dear and stir that for me, please?”
He moved further into the kitchen and headed toward the cooker. His mother was handing out half-filled mugs of hot chocolate to the children and Daphne was squirting cream on top if they wanted it. Tiny marshmallows sat in a bowl on the counter side. Augie took a generous handful and shoved them into his mouth earning him a mild rebuke from his father, who had also just joined them.
The little distractions allowed him to drift closer without drawing too much attention to himself. He picked up two empty mugs from the side and set them down near the stove as though waiting his turn.
She was stirring the chocolate carefully, wisps of steam swirling upwards before disappearing. A strand of hair had slipped loose near her temple, curling softly against her cheek and he had to resist the urge to reach out and tuck it back into place.
He waited for her to look up, but when she did, her gaze couldn’t quite meet his.
A flicker of uncertainty moved through him, but he pushed it aside and took a step closer.
“Pen,” he began quietly, “could we…”
But before he could say more, Eloise’s voice carried clearly across the room.
“Penelope, can I borrow you for a moment?”
Colin shot his sister an irate look and bit back the impulse to tell her no.
Penelope, however, quickly turned around with an automatic smile. “Of course.” She shifted as though to go, but, for a brief second, she hesitated, then she looked up at him again, properly this time.
There was something in her eyes. Guilt, perhaps, or the faintest hint of apology.
He inclined his head once, to tell her it did not matter.
But it did.
With a dissatisfied sigh, he watched her walk away, then picked up the ladle and filled his mug to the brim.
He sat down at the table and tuned out the conversations going on around him as he tried to rein in his frustration. He just needed to bide his time. She wasn’t leaving…yet.
Unfortunately, to his growing exasperation, the day carried on in much the same way. He barely managed to exchange two words with her before someone interrupted with one chore or another for either her or him.
During dinner, an informal affair of pizza and chips laid out on the table so everyone could help themselves, Daphne and Simon announced the happy news that they were expecting again
Congratulations and hugs were given and received as they all crowded around the pair. Augie and Belinda were delighted with themselves for keeping the secret so long, both excited to be having another brother or sister. Caroline wasn’t so happy, so Violet gave her an extra-long hug in consolation.
Colin stepped back after shaking Simon’s hand and smiled fondly as he watched Daphne attempt to answer three people at once. The joy in the room was palpable.
He looked at Penelope.
She was smiling too, standing back a little to let the family go first. And when it was her turn, Colin knew that this was one interruption he didn’t mind. A new baby was a wonderful thing, and he was just glad that he’d been home to hear the news first hand for once.
Still, the conversation he had tried to have sat unsaid between them, and the evening was slipping away fast from him now.
It took some time for the excitement over Daphne’s announcement to settle but, eventually, Violet rose from her seat and clapped her hands together gently.
“Right,” she said with quiet authority, “if Father Christmas is to visit this house tonight, certain small people need to be fast asleep.”
The protests were immediate and loud.
“But it’s not late,” Edmund insisted with a petulant whine.
“It will be once you’ve all had your baths and got ready for bed,” Anthony replied firmly.
Edmund grumbled to himself as the parents gathered their children and guided them towards the stairs.
Now was the perfect time, Colin thought, but his mother had other ideas.
“Penelope, Eloise, would you mind reading to the children once they’re in bed?” she asked hopefully.
“I’d love to,” the redhead agreed immediately.
“You might as well come up now as the little ones will be ready soon,” Violet added, looking over at her daughter who had yet to agree.
“Fine,” Eloise muttered with little enthusiasm as she hooked her arm through Penelope’s.
Colin watched them walk away with a sense of resignation. He assumed she would return. He told himself she would and then perhaps, if he had any luck on his side, he might get ten minutes. That’s all he needed. Five even.
Just five bloody minutes.
Anthony made his way over to him checking his watch.
“Give it half hour. Then presents,” he said, staring at his brother expectantly.
Colin nodded and decided to help Hyacinth and Gregory clear away the dinner things in the meantime. It was hardly stimulating stuff, but it kept his hands occupied and his thoughts from circling too tightly around the fact that he had not yet managed to speak to Penelope.
No one had come back downstairs by the time Anthony deemed they should all go and get the presents that were being stored in a spare room.
The brothers made their way upstairs together, moving more carefully with a shared understanding that stealth was required. Boxes were lifted from wardrobes and removed from under the bed, then they went back down with arms laden. The gifts were carefully placed by the tree and Hyacinth immediately dropped to her knees and began rearranging them.
“It needs to look good,” she declared, nudging one parcel half an inch to the left.
Anthony rolled his eyes but said nothing. Another trip followed, then another and then Colin went back up alone.
He entered his bedroom then paused and looked over at the chest of drawers. His presents were sitting in a neat pile in the opposite corner behind him, but he headed over to the antique furniture instead. Haltingly, he reached up and rested his hand on the handle. His fingers tightened briefly as he debated whether to open it, only to pull back with a shake of his head.
Not yet.
He moved away and gathered up most of the presents from the corner then took them downstairs. After laying them out under the tree, he returned to his room for the large drum kit box and the remaining few gifts.
By the time he reached the drawing room again, Penelope and Eloise had returned and were crouched near the tree, adding their own parcels to the carefully constructed mound. Penelope glanced up as he entered and gave him a small smile.
He smiled back and crossed the room to place the rest of his gifts amongst the pile.
When the last present had been placed, Violet surveyed the tree with quiet satisfaction.
“Perfect.”
“It does look lovely,” Penelope agreed warmly then glanced around at everyone, her gaze holding his for a moment before she looked back at Violet and added, “I’m a bit tired so I think I’ll head on up to bed. It’s bound to be an early start tomorrow.”
Colin straightened and took a step toward her.
“I’ll walk…” he began then felt a hand land heavily onto his shoulder. He turned his head and frowned in irritation. “What?”
“Nightcap,” Anthony reminded him quietly. “I know you’ve missed a few but, tradition, remember?”
Colin hesitated, glancing toward the doorway where Penelope had gone then back at his brother. He exhaled slowly and gave a quick nod.
“Fine.”
The men headed to Anthony’s study and he poured them all a healthy shot of brandy then passed the glasses around before lifting his own.
“To family,” he said evenly. Then, after the slightest pause added, “and to having Colin home this year.”
“To family,” the others echoed, lifting their glasses.
Colin held Anthony’s gaze for a beat before, he too, murmured, “To family.”
The brandy burned pleasantly on the way down and conversation picked up around him. He just listened at first. Then, gradually, he joined in.
It had been a long time since he had been among them like this and it felt good. Easy, even. Almost like he’d not missed the last few years.
When the glasses were empty, they all made their way back to the drawing room. Colin lingered only briefly downstairs before excusing himself. As much as he’d enjoyed the time with his brothers, the underlying frustration was still bubbling away and he needed to have some time alone. After bidding everyone a goodnight, he finally made his way upstairs.
The corridor was dim, lit by a single lamp that cast long shadows along the floor.
He had to pass Penelope’s room to get to his own and fully expected her to be asleep by now. So, when he noticed the thin line of light spilling out beneath her door, he slowed.
For a moment he simply stood there, listening. There was no movement from within that he could hear and he wondered if she might have fallen asleep with the light still on.
Or…maybe she was still awake.
His heart started to speed up. He could knock. There was nothing to stop him now. No one around to interfere.
The conversation he’d wanted to have all day pressed at the edges of his restraint and he raised his hand before he could overthink it.
The light went out.
He stood there, staring at the thin strip of darkness where it had been and felt his stomach drop.
He took step back and let his hand fall to his side, still fisted tightly as he fought back the very real urge to bang on her door anyway.
After Christmas, he told himself.
He would speak to her after Christmas.
It was late anyway, and he’d been drinking, and what he wanted to say deserved more than a hurried exchange in a dark hallway.
But still…
He hesitated there a moment longer then shook his head and forced himself to walk away.
It was only one more day.
He could manage that.
Probably.
CHAPTER 9