Chapter Text
"Colin?" Pen's sweet, girlish voice cut through the quiet of the hall. "Might I have a word?
He turned and crossed to her at once. "Pen, of course."
Her cheeks flushed a little, and she could not meet his eyes. After a moment, and a steadying breath, she looked up at him. "It is a rather delicate matter. I wish I did not have cause to raise it, but I believe you deserve to know."
"Is there something on my face?" He grinned at her. "Has it been there all evening? It has, hasn't it?"
He'd expected Pen to smile back, to see the corners of her eyes crinkle in delight, but she gave no response. An unsettled feeling came over him, one that he tried, with little success, to swallow back.
"Sorry," he said. "Um, go on."
"I have wanted to talk to you since the engagement was announced, but we're always in company," she said, and the expression on her face was quite serious; it was an expression he had not, heretofore, seen on her.
"So, is this something about Marina?"
He had meant— he was not certain what he had meant, but surely it was nothing about Marina, and if it were, it could not be too awful, and—
"She is with child!" Penelope said, in a strangled cry.
He stared at her, perplexed. Was she mistaken?
"But we are engaged." He had the strangest sensation that he was no longer in his own body, and that even now, he was watching the events of another person's life pass him by.
"It was— she was with child before the two of you— before she seduced you. Before she even arrived in London."
Seduced him? Marina had not seduced him. They had not even kissed. Had she—? Was it possible that it had been a virgin conception?
He shook his head firmly against the thought.
"She is— there was a young man she knew, back home. She has written to him, but he wrote back to tell her that he wanted nothing more to do with her or their child."
He was going to be sick. He had just begun casting his eyes about for some suitable place to empty his stomach when Marina slipped into the hall.
Her mouth made a pretty little moue, one Colin might have thought charming even earlier that day.
"I cannot marry you!" he cried, and Marina's mouth, at once, fell open.
"I— I do not understand," she said, her lip trembling. "I thought you loved me; I thought you cared for me above all others."
His heart clenched painfully, but when he tried to tell her that it was alright, that they might still marry, he could not do it.
"You are with child," he said, "and it is not mine; you know it cannot be mine."
Marina whirled on Penelope, who shrank back from her.
"You have been lying to Mr. Bridgerton, Pen," she said, her voice cautious and controlled.
Colin looked at her more closely. Was she baring her teeth at Penelope?
He moved to stand between them, but before he could do it, Penelope straightened and glared at her cousin.
"I am telling the truth; you know that I am. I cannot allow you to trap Colin, for he has done nothing to deserve a marriage laid on a foundation of lies."
Colin rather thought that was true, for he had always sought to behave in a gentlemanly fashion, and he was quite sure that he had done so. He had not even kissed Marina when she had tried at Daphne's wedding; although he had certainly wished to do so, he had not allowed himself the pleasure, and he was quite glad that he had not, for he would certainly have been obligated to marry her then.
"Colin," Marina said coaxingly, "surely you cannot be serious about breaking our engagement."
He could barely force himself to look at her, but when he did, he saw very little of any sort of feeling in her eyes, besides that of blind panic.
"I cannot marry you," he said. "I cannot. I have always wished to marry for love, and you do not love me; you are carrying another man's child, and I am quite certain that, if he came for you, you would have him in a heartbeat."
The tears that sprang to Marina's eyes told him that he had the right of it.
"Miss Thompson." He came to stand beside her, trying to keep his voice calm and soothing. "Perhaps you might seek him out again. Perhaps his response was— perhaps you misinterpreted it."
From her place behind Marina, Penelope's eyes widened. She shook her head minutely.
Marina pressed a hand to her mouth and began to cry.
"Perhaps," he said desperately, "there is another gentleman, someone who is in need of an heir and cannot— perhaps someone like that?"
"You could still marry me, Colin," she said through her tears. "I would be a good wife to you; I would treat you well."
"You could not," he told her, and it was at that moment that he understood his resolution. "You could not be a good wife to me, for I would always be left to question whether you loved me, and I would know, deep in my heart, that you did not."
There was a moment when the whole hall was still and silent. None of them spoke, and none of them breathed, and Colin thought that Marina had accepted it all.
"Miss Thompson, I am sorry—"
"I will bring a suit against you!" Miss Thompson cried.
"What?" Colin was not certain whether Penelope or he spoke, for the word came out on the barest whisper of breath.
"Breach of promise. You said that you would marry me. You announced it before half the ton. You must marry me."
"I will not," Colin said. "Should you continue to force the issue, I will tell everyone that you are with child."
"And I will tell everyone that you are the father," Marina said viciously.
"The father of whom?"
They all whirled about— Anthony had joined them in the hall.
No one answered him, and he repeated himself, louder this time.
"No one," Colin said, when his heart had resumed beating properly. "I am not the father of anyone, for I have never lain with a woman."
"Then who—?" Anthony's eyes fell upon Penelope, and really, Colin could not let it stand; he set about correcting his brother's misconception at once.
"It is Miss Thompson— she was with child when she arrived here in London. She planned to pass the baby off as mine, and the moment Penelope informed me of her perfidy, I broke the engagement."
Anthony fixed Miss Thompson with a look that would affright nearly any young lady; to her credit, Miss Thompson did not quail.
"Your brother has made me a promise, Lord Bridgerton, and I intend to hold him to it."
"She has threatened to sue me for breach of promise, Anthony, but I—" Colin swallowed down the fear that had risen in his throat, feeling for all the world much younger than his nine and ten years.
The engagement had seemed so exciting when he made his proposal, but now that Miss Thompson had been revealed as a practiced deceiver, the thought of wedding her only made him feel ill.
"If you are indeed with child, and that child is not Colin's, I do not see how you can possibly expect him to continue this farce of an engagement." Anthony had drawn himself to his full height, and was making no effort at all to lower his voice. "Where is the father of this child?"
Anthony's raised voice had drawn the attention of the remaining Bridgertons and Featheringtons, and they had all come out into the hall to see what was the matter.
Penelope's mother, at the least, seemed to have realized how precarious the situation was, for she shot Miss Thompson a hard look, one that seemed to say, 'I told you so.'
Before anyone else could say a word, Colin and Marina had been spirited, along with his mother and Lord and Lady Featherington, into Lord Featherington's study.
"Did you know of this?" Anthony said, the moment the door had closed behind them. "Did any of you know of this?"
Colin shook his head firmly. Had he had even the slightest idea, he certainly would not have paid his attentions to Miss Thompson, for when he married, he wished for a wife whose whole heart was his.
Lord and Lady Featherington were strangely silent— at least, it was strange for Lady Featherington to be so silent. Lord Featherington had never been the most talkative of fellows.
His mother, clearly, had had no idea, for her eyes were wide with disbelief, and she glanced, over and over, at Marina's midsection.
Anthony fixed his eyes on the Featheringtons. "I can only assume that you knew of Miss Thompson's duplicity, and of her— condition well before she and my brother found themselves in this imbroglio."
"I did know of Miss Thompson's unfortunate situation, although it was discovered by our staff; Miss Thompson herself was not forthcoming. Lord Featherington and I sought several potential matches for her, elderly gentlemen in need of an heir, who had made clear that they would ask no questions about a child who was born several months earlier than expected."
Colin had known that he had rescued Miss Thompson from several such gentlemen, but he had not realized the reason for their pursuit of her; the Featheringtons had been very discreet about the situation.
"Then how," Anthony said, "did she find herself engaged to my brother?"
Lady Featherington drew a deep, shuddering breath. "She refused all those other gentlemen, my lord, though I tried to help her understand the precariousness of her situation. She chased him in spite of my objections, and they were engaged before I could stop them."
Colin looked across at Miss Thompson. She sat proud and tall in her chair, as though she had not just made a fool of him, as though she had not lied and tricked and deceived him.
Now that her scheme was laid bare before them, it all made sense. When she had become overwhelmed with heat at Daphne's wedding, when she had attempted to kiss him, when she had told him, with sorrow in her voice, that she had never been wanted— all of it had been carefully planned and executed.
She had been as a spider, weaving her web of lies and deceit and seduction, and Colin had blundered blindly into it, unknowing as a fly.
He squared his shoulders. He had been a boy up to this point, but it was time to show that he was a man; he would resolve their present situation, and he would do it now.
"I have no intention of marrying Miss Thompson," he said. "I will not enter into a marriage that is not based on love and friendship and mutual respect."
"We could have that—" Miss Thompson said, but Colin cut her off at once.
"We could not. We could not, and we will not."
Miss Thompson glared at him, and Lady Featherington glared at Miss Thompson, and Anthony glared at all of them, and Colin settled in for what was bound to be an excessively long and unpleasant conference.