Chapter Text
Thames Estuary, September 1814
The wind was entirely too biting for a late summer evening and Colin Bridgerton was forced to turn up the collar of his newly acquired tan travel coat. Around him, the sailors paid no heed to the chill, their sleeves rolled up and shirts mostly unbuttoned, sweat dripping down their foreheads as they prepared the ship to sail.
It was tempting to offer his assistance, the heat to his limbs which such industry would provide, appealing. Although, he had learnt from prior experience that this early into a voyage these weather-beaten men would scoff such overtures away, thinking him nothing but a pampered, posh boy who wished to play at pirates.
Their crude shouts intermingled with the loud unfurling of the sails, the vast swathes of dulled white fabric easily picking up the stiff breeze which had been determinedly dishevelling his hair. It was mesmeric to watch this strange sort of dance performed with ropes and pulleys, an artform that only a privileged few had the knowledge to enact.
A small kerfuffle at the gangplank, probably signalling a late arrival, distracted Colin momentarily from his observations. He craned his neck in an attempt to catch a glimpse of what, or who, was causing such a commotion but it was a hopeless matter from this vantage point on the opposite side of the deck.
Giving up the endeavour he brought his elbows to rest on the smoothed wooden handrail and turned his gaze outwards, across the calm waters of the Thames, over the shabby cottages which housed sailors and their families, past the lush fields beyond those, until it settled on the horizon, tinged golden as it was by the setting sun.
Colin smiled as he felt the ship gracefully pull away from its berth, a sense of lightness filling him suddenly. This was always his favourite part of a journey; the anticipation for adventure new and undimmed; the excitement for reaching places heretofore unknown; the promise of leaving behind those burdensome expectations which stifled him constantly.
He felt a strange sort of kindredship with this vessel, the ropes which had kept it tied to the dock now unmoored, granting it the freedom to forge its own path ahead. What a perfect symmetry to his own situation Colin thought, for he too was cutting ties with what had come before, leaving behind his former self as readily as this ship left the English shore.
If his previous travels had been about escaping his past; these were to embrace his future. It was a pretty thought indeed and Colin made a note to perhaps include it in his journal later on that evening.
This time there would be no melancholy, no self doubts, this time he was ready to take advantage of everything the world had to offer a charming, confident, young man such as himself.
“You are astonishing Colin.”
The words of commendation from Penelope, his dearest friend, after he had saved her family from certain ruin flitted through his mind in her sweet melodic voice. He thought on them often, very much relishing the boon to his ego which they had brought.
She had a way of making him feel seen, validated as no one else did. It was why he sought out her company so often, why her letters had been such a welcome addition to his travels the prior year. Truthfully he was already looking forward to their correspondence again on this tour.
On paper Penelope allowed her words and her wit to flow in a way she rarely did in company. Her intelligence through the page was palpable and curiosity for the world beyond England insatiable. He had been more than happy to oblige her sense of wonderment, describing his grand adventures across the continent in vivid detail for her.
As the setting sun gave way to a dusky twilight Colin found himself beginning to compose the opening lines of the missive he would send to Penelope as soon as he reached the port of Naples. There was already so much that he wished to share, little trivialities which he would be embarrassed to disclose to anyone other than her.
He had just constructed what he thought was a particularly witty anecdote when he was rather startled from his thoughts by a pointed cough from directly behind. Turning in the direction of the sound Colin was surprised to find a rather flustered looking ship’s captain flanked by his own equally unsettled looking valet, Dunwoody.
“Good evening.” Colin said jovially enough, although he found the nervousness of the other two men slightly disconcerting. “Is anything urgent the matter?”
Captain Crawley, a ruddy faced, good natured old sea dog who preferred keeping his crew in line with the promise of rum and women rather than anything more tyrannical, grimaced. The expression brought an itching sort of discomfort to Colin who began to tap his fingers rhythmically on the balustrade.
“Well, you see.” Here he coughed, prolonging what already felt like an interminable wait for a reply. “There seems to have been a rather unfortunate mix up with the numbers on board the ship. A last minute addition to the list which was apparently missed…”
“Right?” Colin replied bemusedly, his eyebrows slowly inching upwards. “And this concerns myself and Dunwoody how exactly?”
“We are a bunk short in the passenger cabins.” Was the captain’s hasty reply. “And seeing as it is your valet taking up one of the two in yours, would you perhaps be amenable to sharing with this other fellow instead?”
Colin thought on it for a moment and found he was not immediately opposed to the change, after all having experienced the shared dormitories of Eton one could hardly be accustomed to privacy. Still, he looked over to his valet to gauge the other man’s wishes, seeing as this substitution in bunking arrangements would affect him the most.
“What say you, Dunwoody?” He asked and Captain Crawley’s eyebrows shot up, seemingly surprised by Colin requesting the opinion of someone in his employ rather than merely demanding they do as he ordered.
“I am happy to bunk with the cabin boy, Sir.” His ever accommodating valet declared readily.
“Capital!” The captain exclaimed, giving them no further chance of discussion as he heartily patted both Colin and Dunwoody on the back. “I will give our tardy guest the good news and then I must return to the helm before our pilot debarks.”
With that he hurried away, leaving a bemused Colin behind to ponder this unexpected turn of events. Turning to Dunwoody, he found the other man seemingly unruffled by the change in circumstances.
“Are you certain you do not mind?” He queried again. “We could always send this new chap to sleep below decks with the sailors.”
The reply he received was a rather nonplussed shrug of the shoulders. “As long as I do not need to share a hammock with a sailor, I do not much care where I bunk.”
“Then you had best go tell the cabin boy the misfortune which is to befall him.” Colin smirked. “Poor Tommy having to endure your snoring for three weeks.”
Dunwoody rolled his eyes and let out an unamused huff but dutifully trudged off in the direction of the hatch which led below stairs. Watching him go, Colin pulled his coat more tightly around himself, the evening air turning distinctly colder as they neared the sea.
Despite this he remained above decks a while longer, absentmindedly watching some of the younger sailors oil the ropes until the first stars appeared in the quickly darkening sky. Checking his fob watch and knowing he could no longer put off being sociable, Colin pushed himself off the balustrade with a heavy sigh.
The passageway to his cabin was narrow, dingy and with rather limited headspace, so he was rather surprised to find Dunwoody lurking nervously in a corner, his worried face illuminated by the meagre light from an oil lamp mounted on the wall behind him.
“Why are you still standing here like a lemon?” Colin queried. “Did I not give you leave to go get yourself settled into your new accommodation?”
“You did, Sir.” He nodded. “But you see…your new cabinmate…I believe I should warn you…”
Colin raised an eyebrow before leaning in and asking conspiratorially. “Are they so very terrible? Shall I need to wear a clothes peg over my nose when in their company?”
His valet shifted uneasily, clearly not finding much amusement in such witticisms. “No, not at all. Quite the opposite I should wager.”
Studying Dunwoody carefully, Colin was completely unable to fathom why his normally unflappable valet appeared so truly disconcerted. Surely there could be nothing that terribly wrong with the man now sharing his cabin? Would they bunk him with a lunatic?
With a strong shake of the head to rid himself of such ridiculous notions, Colin returned to his humorous prying. “So it is worse than that?” He smirked, pausing to create some dramatic effect before his next question. “Are they a dandy? Shall they endlessly criticise my badly tied cravats?”
Dunwoody looked mightily affronted that his proficiency at properly attiring a gentleman was being called into question and Colin laughed heartily at the disgust which was plainly written on his face.
“I jest, I jest. Please do not take offence, for I fear I would be quite useless without your impeccable service to my clothing” He assured, patting Dunwoody genially on the back. “Now go and settle yourself in, it is almost dinner time and I am certain I shall be able to manage quite well here by myself.”
“But Sir…”
Normally, Colin did not like to pull rank over someone he shared a somewhat friendship with but Dunwoody really was being entirely too tiresome in this matter, so he furnished him with a look which clearly indicated their discussion to be over.
The other man threw up his hands exasperatedly and shook his head, silently conveying the message ‘on your head be it’ before disappearing away into the gloom of the corridor.
It was with a small amount of trepidation that Colin turned the door handle to admit himself into the cabin. The space he was greeted with was small, basic, nothing at all like the luxuries he was accustomed to back home. A modestly sized porthole allowed the fading twilight in, whilst a brightly burning oil lamp highlighted the threadbare state of the carpet and the worn nature of the furniture.
To be sure there were other ships with a much more lavish offering for their passengers but this particular vessel had speed to its advantage. It was said that under the command of its wily old captain it regularly completed the run down to Naples in less than three weeks, something which had greatly appealed to Colin, eager as he was to begin his new journey in earnest.
He allowed his gaze to slowly travel over the other meagre furnishings of the cabin before it finally settled on the figure of a rather small chap who stood facing away from him, turned as he was fully towards the couple of bunks which took up the entirety of the far wall.
Colin’s first thoughts on his new cabinmate were slightly perplexed; if nothing else he was not entirely sure what the fuss from Dunwoody had been about. The diminutive fellow, who had a shock of curly red hair rather neatly styled atop his head, was hunched over his portmanteau busily sorting through his clothing.
True, the cut of this chap’s waistcoat, for they had removed their coat, was slightly out of fashion and their boots were very scuffed but that was hardly out of the ordinary when travelling. In fact the only seemingly odd thing he could spy about this fellow, apart from his small stature, was that his trousers sat rather too snugly over his ample behind.
Did men usually have such shapely bottoms? And if so, why had Colin never noticed before?
Shaking his head to rid himself of such completely inappropriate thoughts and not wishing to be caught staring in such a manner as would make for a very uncomfortable conversation, he cleared his throat loudly enough to draw attention to himself.
“Evening my good man.” He called out with a cheery air. “Apologies, but you shall be stuck with me as your…”
The rest of the sentence died in Colin’s throat and his mouth dropped open uselessly. Despite the ridiculous moustache which adorned the upper lip of his new cabinmate there was no mistaking the identity of this person as soon as they had spun around at his greeting.
It was a face he knew not from Eton or White’s or any other place which gentlemen frequented as one would have expected in this setting, but rather from spying it across a crowded ballroom or during his mother’s afternoon teas.
“P…Pen?” He managed to just about splutter out.
“Mister Bridgerton.” She replied curtly, accompanying it with a surprisingly manly nod of the head in his direction.
A flurry of emotions flew through Colin in that instant and he could safely say that not one of them was positive. Panic, fear, anger, confusion, all mingled and battled for prominence within him. His mind which had stuttered for a moment, now raced with such speed as almost made his head spin.
Somehow his hand found the back of a chair and he gripped it tightly, almost painfully so. Forcefully he deepened his frantic breaths, willing his thoughts to slow into some semblance of order.
Penelope was here.
She was here, in his cabin …and dressed as a man for some godforsaken reason.
Gods…they were on a ship.
On a ship which was not supposed to dock in Naples until three weeks hence.
What on earth was he to do?
He rubbed at his eyes before chancing another glance at Penelope, just to ensure this was not all some figment of his sometimes troublesome imagination. Obviously he was not graced with such luck and she gave him a cheery wave for his troubles.
With a grimace Colin began to pace, the narrowness of the cabin meaning that the few steps it took to cross from one side to the other provided little relief to his turmoil. Normally he liked to think of himself as a calm, logical sort of person with rather good problem solving skills, yet any solution to this current predicament eluded him.
Running his hands frustratedly through his hair he was dismayed to see that Penelope, clearly having tired of watching him stride to and fro, was now not so much sitting as lounging nonchalantly on the bottom bunk.
She met his eyes unflinchingly and drawled. “If you continue pacing you shall wear that carpet right through. It is already threadbare enough as it is.”
Colin was stopped short by her casualness, had to bite his tongue to stop himself from snapping at her. Forcibly he reminded himself that she was still a gently born lady whom he should treat with respect, no matter how little she resembled one at the moment.
After tossing a glare in her direction by way of reply, he resumed his pacing.
How could she be so calm? He wondered.
If word got out of her current circumstances she would be utterly ruined, ostracised from all polite society for the rest of her days, her reputation completely unsalvageable.
What on earth could have possessed her to be so reckless?
Of Eloise he could have believed it somewhat possible, had she not cavorted with political radicals and other such unsavoury people after all? But how had someone as sweet and innocent as Penelope ended up here?
Certainly she had always been the one most interested in his travels, always eager to hear more about them and ply him with questions. Surely though, that had not given her encouragement to join him?
Had it?
Had he unwittingly seeded this fanciful idea into her mind? Had his stories painted such an alluring picture that she decided utter ruin was a price she would willingly pay to see the world?
Well, if that were the case then it was most definitely his responsibility to fix things, Colin thought decidedly. He would go to the captain right this instant and convince him to turn back the ship, for surely they could not have sailed far.
Striding purposefully towards the door he made it as far as grabbing the handle when his progress was quickly halted by a sharp tug on his coat, so sharp in fact that it threw him off balance completely and sent him crashing into the wood panels with a thud.
“Penelope! What are you…” He exclaimed loudly until she hastily clasped her hand firmly over his mouth.
“Are you mad?” She hissed. “Do you wish to bring the whole ship upon us?”
Colin shook his head as vehemently as he could manage whilst her hand still pressed firmly into his face.
“So where do you think you are going then?” Penelope demanded, winding her fingers into the lapel of his coat and pulling him down to her eye level; an action which Colin was much too stunned to stop.
He had never been this close to her, never seen the blue of her irises look so icy, nor for her lips to be so thin and stubbornly set.
“I’mm to sppeakk toothe capptainn” He just about mumbled around her hand.
“You will do no such thing, Colin.” She insisted. “I will not leave. My mind is decided. Besides, it is much too late to turn around now. It is all going exactly as I planned.”
Regaining some sense, Colin wrapped his fingers around her wrist and pulled her hand away from his mouth. Resolutely he ignored the tingling to his lips which her touch had left behind, choosing to focus on his incredulity instead.
“You have it all planned?” He scoffed. “How could you ever think to pass yourself off as a man?”
Placing his hands on her shoulders, he scrutinised her boyish new look. Granted, the looser styled trousers and waistcoat did a passable job at hiding her womanly curves and the tightly wrapped cravat covered her delicate throat well.
But the lack of any facial stubble, especially when accompanied by that ridiculous fake moustache, would be obvious to anyone who gave her a second glance. And that was not to mention her…
Slowly, almost as if noticing for the first time, he reached out and gently tugged on one of her short curls. “Oh Pen. What have you done? Your beautiful hair.”
She looked away from him then, a hint of sadness crossing her face. “I have made it thus far. No one has thought me anything other than Mister Stephen Feathersome. Why should anyone know any better if you do not reveal me?”
Colin gaped at her insistence, wondering if perhaps she might have suffered an unfortunate blow to the head since the last time he had seen her. It was beyond comprehension otherwise that someone as sensible as Penelope would think to enact such a cack handed scheme.
“You will reveal yourself, for there is much you do not know about the ways of men.”
Penelope shrugged. “Then you must teach me what I do not know.”
He blinked down at her, thinking that surely he must have misheard. “Excuse me? You cannot seriously be asking..?”
Clearly she was, for she nodded. “With your instruction it would materially lessen any chances of discovery.”
“I will play no part in this insanity.”
“Please, Colin, there is no one else I would ask this of. No one I would trust so implicitly to protect my reputation.” She appealed with great feeling. “Please.”
Her eyes were near begging and it must have stirred some madness within him, for Colin felt his stance softening, his fingers tentatively reaching out to gently peel away the fake whiskers from her face.
“You will draw less attention without these.” He told her softly.
“Thank you.” She whispered, accompanying it with a shy smile.
That smile somehow seemed to drive him to even further madness. The hand which he should have withdrawn once the task was complete, as would any proper gentleman, instead began to delicately caress the slight blemishes which had been left behind on her skin.
He heard her breath quicken the closer his fingertips traced to her lips. They were so rosy, so full, so utterly tempting and so very, very close…
There was a sharp knock at the door behind them and they sprung apart instantly, Colin practically tumbling head first into the lower bunk in his haste to get away from Penelope.
“Beggin’ your pardons, Sirs.” The high pitched voice of the cabin boy rang nervously through the wooden slats of the doorway.
Distantly, for his ears were somehow ringing, he noted that Penelope very calmly opened the door and made some light remark in a much deeper voice than her usual.
Was that also an Irish lilt to her accent that he detected? Colin frowned, pondering where on earth she could have picked up such a skill whilst he attempted to arrange himself into a seated position as surreptitiously as possible.
Tommy, who despite only being thirteen was already of a height with Penelope, thankfully made it his business to notice nothing amiss. “Just a reminder to yourself, Mister Feathersome, and to Mister Bridgitson that dinner is to be served shortly.”
“Noted, Tommy. With thanks.” Penelope clipped in a disconcertingly manly way before sending the cabin boy off with a cheerful wave.
Closing the door firmly behind herself, she turned and fixed him with a curious stare. As soon as the footsteps in the corridor had quieted she asked slyly. “So Mister Bridgitson, is it?”
Colin crossed his arms peevishly, although he could feel the tips of his ears turning red. “I believe I am owed an explanation far more than you are, Miss Featherington.”
She mimicked his posture and mulishly insisted. “It is Mister Feathersome.”
They stared each other down unblinkingly, stubbornly; the low hissing of the oil lamp adding to the inauspicious atmosphere in the cabin. Perhaps surprisingly, it was Colin who was the first to yield.
“What on earth were you thinking, Penelope?” He cried.
“I wished to have an adventure.” She shrugged, still looking at him defiantly.
“An adventure?”
With a defeated sigh she came to sit by him on the bunk, the thin mattress sagging between them, almost encouraging their bodies together. Quickly he shifted as far away as the narrow space would allow and tried to ignore the look of hurt that crossed her face.
“I felt trapped. For once I wished to experience something beyond the limits of the ton, to have freedom, to be able to be someone else.” She sighed again. “There is nothing for me in London. I have no prospects, no friends…my family barely tolerates me…”
“No friends?” Colin frowned, annoyed that he had not noticed her unhappiness all these past months. “What of Eloise? Surely whatever small disagreement is between you can be resolved.” He inched subtly closer. “And what of me? Are we not friends?”
Penelope kept her gaze averted from him, her fingers picking at some imaginary lint on her trousers. “Eloise sees it as much more than a small disagreement. I do not believe it can be easily mended.”
“What of me then?” He asked again.
Hesitantly she brought her eyes up to meet his and he was dismayed to find them full of tears. “What of you, Colin?” She murmured sadly. “You who write me long, beautiful letters, who seeks me out at balls, who saves my family from certain ruin, but…”
His hands itched to reach out to hers, to provide her with what mediocre comfort he could offer. It would not be proper though, he forcefully reminded himself, opting to clasp them tightly over his knees instead.
“But?” He prompted when the silence became too heavy for him to bear any longer.
It was mesmerising to watch as something akin to a mask slid over her face, her features becoming devoid of all the emotion which normally made them so beautiful.
“I do not wish to speak of this any longer, Mister Bridgerton.” She exclaimed hurriedly, jumping up from the bunk as a bell sounded from down the corridor. “Why it is time for us to go to dinner.”
He did not move an inch, feeling his anger begin to simmer dangerously close to the surface again. “Penelope, in this case you will not so easily distract me with the promise of food. I insist we finish this conversation”
“And I would much rather go to dinner.”
That was it. This farce had gone on long enough. It was time to take charge of this situation, no matter how much she opposed him.
Rising to his full height, Colin said in a tone he hoped would brook no disagreement. “Pack your bag, Penelope. I will go speak to the captain and we shall have you home in no time.”
“You shall do no such thing.” She almost screeched before moderating her voice into something more vehement. “We have sailed. We are halfway down the Thames, there is no way they shall turn back. That is why I waited until the last minute to board.”
“How very clever of you.” He retorted curtly.
“Thank you. It was one of my better ideas.” She quipped back mockingly whilst very unsubtly positioning herself so that she blocked the path to the doorway.
Colin was certain he could easily shift her if necessary but he would rather not have to manhandle a lady. “If I tell them you have been taken ill and must be seen by a doctor immediately, surely they will turn back?.”
“Please listen to yourself, Colin. Everyone shall find out…I have been so careful. No one ever need know.”
“I will tell them…explain how…” He struggled to articulate his thoughts coherently, but surely, surely, she must see that there was no other option than to return home. There was no way they would make it through one, let alone two sea voyages, undetected.
“You will ruin me.” She implored. “There is no explanation you can give that would not lead down that road.”
“Perhaps you should have thought of that before dressing as a man and running away from home.” He snapped, then instantly regretted it as she flinched, her demeanour losing most of its confidence.
A lone tear spilled onto her cheek and her voice was barely above a whisper when she replied. “So you are determined to be the cause of my ruin then?”
His anger wavered as he witnessed her sorrow. There was no imaginable scenario in which her deception would not be discovered, yet the question was, could he be the one to play the role of executioner?
Truthfully, Colin knew that he could not.
“You are my dearest friend, Pen.” He sighed. “I would never purposefully do anything which may harm your reputation.”
Somehow it had been the wrong thing to say, for instead of cheering Penelope his words had quite the opposite effect. Her face crumpled, a hiccuped sob escaping her, swiftly followed by another until she began crying in earnest.
With little thought to propriety, and truthful was there any to be found in this situation anyway, Colin crossed the small distance to where she stood and enfolded her in his arms. Gently he attempted to sooth her in much the same way that his mother used to do when he scraped his knee as a child.
It felt so right to hold her like this, even as her tears wet his waistcoat. She truly was so very dear to him and he would always do whatever he could to protect her, even when that meant protecting her from her own folly.
As he rocked them slowly in time to the swaying of the ship an idea presented itself to Colin which would allow him to do just that. It was so simple, so obvious, that he almost chided himself for not thinking of it sooner.
When Penelope had sufficiently calmed he gently pulled away from her but only far enough to be able to meet her eyes. A wave of tenderness washed through him as he enfolded her tiny, cold hands in his; then after taking a deep breath he dropped to one knee.
“Pen…Penelope, will you marry me?”
“What?” She gasped. "No."
If Colin had not exactly expected exclamations of joy to his impromptu proposal, he had also not quite anticipated the absolute curtness to Penelope’s reply or the way she had hastily removed her hands from his.
“It is the perfect solution.” He attempted to explain. “It will save your reputation. I shall get Captain Crawley and he may marry us immediately.”
Penelope looked down at him as if he had magically sprouted another head. “Are you mad? I am no damsel in need of saving. How many times must I say it? No one will find out.”
“But it is the only way…”
“I did not come here to trap you into marriage.” She huffed. “And I have no wish for a husband, in fact I have quite sworn off men entirely.”
“You are doing a rather poor job of it if your intention is to share a cabin with me, a man, for the next three weeks.”
A sly smile tugged on her lips and Colin could not say that he liked the look of it. “Ah, but you are my friend. You do not count.”
It took him a moment to place why those words seemed so familiar. When he did, the way his stomach lurched had little to do with the increased movement of the ship. Clearly she had misunderstood his meaning all those months ago and taken his compliment as an insult. For there was little doubt in his mind that in her echoing of his words she meant to insult him.
Belatedly, Colin realised how foolish he must look still so prostrated before her, the floorboards beginning to bite painfully into his knee through the threadbare rug. After inelegantly hauling himself to his feet, he tugged awkwardly on his waistcoat.
For some reason he could not bring himself to look at Penelope, her rejection of his proposal causing a sting well beyond that which could be explained away by a bruised ego. His mind was all a muddle and he knew he would not be able to clear it for as long as he remained in her company.
Perhaps a turn, or twenty, around the top deck, in the biting cold, would do him some good.
Purposefully he strode towards the cabin door, halting only when he heard her call worriedly after him. His hand rested lightly on the handle as he debated whether she deserved the courtesy of a reply.
In the end his manners won out and he told her in a voice which was surprisingly steady. “I just need some fresh air, Pen. Do not worry I shall not breathe a word to anyone”
With that he yanked the door open and stepped out into the dingy corridor, her soft ‘thank you’ ringing loudly in his ears as he put as much distance as he could between them.