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(NOT SO) SECRET ADMIRER - Chapter 3 - A Polin Fic

SYNOPSIS: Colin decides to secretly woo Penelope over the course of a week leading up to Valentine's Day with the aid of his siblings.

Modern AU and pure fluff!

RATING: General

PAIRING: Colin Bridgerton/Penelope Featherington

Read from beginning on AO3 or here: Prologue,

Chapter 3 – N is for Notebooks

February 9th

Colin ran his fingers through his hair a couple of times to give his curls a slightly messy look then adjusted his shirt collar as he checked himself in the mirror.

Head tilted to the side, he opted for undoing one more shirt button, exposing more of his chest and gave a little nod. That would do.

He jogged down the stairs then grabbed his keys and jacket on the way through his house and headed out to his car. He was off to his mum’s place for Sunday lunch and Penelope was going to be there.

She’d had an open invite to go to his mother’s place for years. Ever since she’d known them really. Usually, she’d only go when Eloise was there, but this time his sister was away with Phillip for the weekend, so he’d been pleased when she’d agreed to come along anyway.

He had hoped it was because she wanted to see him, but she’d burst that bubble pretty quickly by telling him that she would be going to visit her own mother first. She lived near to Violet and Penelope had explained that it gave her an excuse to leave.

Colin sighed. He wouldn’t wish that on his worst enemy. Portia Featherington was…something.

He’d offered to go with her, but she’d declined. She didn’t want to force her mother onto anyone else either, it seemed.

He pulled up at his mother’s house and parked on the drive then went in. Violet greeted him with a warm hug and a gentle scolding about not hearing from him much in the last week. He promised he’d do better then went into the living room to see who else had arrived. Benedict was already there and so was Francesca with her girlfriend, Michaela and Daphne with her husband, Simon. The latter was entertaining their children with the help of Benedict and so he took the chance to have a quiet word with his sister.

Daphne was watching her husband and brother with an indulgent smile when he sat down next to her on the couch and it widened to a proper grin when she turned to look at him.

“Benedict tells me that things are going well with Penelope,” she said happily.

“Hmmm,” he hummed in a dubious tone. “Did he also tell you that he nearly gave everything away yesterday?”

“Hey!” came his brother’s indignant voice from where he sat on the floor playing with some toy cars. “I will always sign my own artwork and I thought my cover story was very good, thank you very much. It was plausible and deflective all at the same time.”

“You could’ve told me about it first though,” Colin grumbled. “And the balloons.”

“Oh, dear God, not the balloons again,” Benedict declared wearily as he rolled his eyes.

Daphne looked between her two brothers and laughed. Clearly there was more to that story but she decided that with Penelope’s impending arrival, it was likely not the place to discuss it further.

“Well, you don’t have to worry about my part in all this, Colin,” she soothed when he looked as though he was about to say something more to their brother. “I have already left today’s gift at Penelope’s house for when she returns.”

Colin shot one last glare at Benedict then turned to his sister and gave her a stiff smile.

“Thank you, Daphne. It’s good to know that I can rely on you to do exactly as I asked.” He heard his brother mutter something under his breath and shot him a challenging look. “What did you say?”

“Oh, nothing brother,” Benedict denied, only to be outed by a four year old.

“Uncle Ben said that you’re a…”

“Uh-uh-uh-uh,” Simon broke in loudly, “You know we don’t say things like that, Augie.”

“But, Uncle Ben…”

“No,” Simon asserted effectively silencing his son.

Benedict mouthed a contrite ‘sorry’ to his brother-in-law who shook his head at him in disappointment while Colin stifled a laugh.

“Penelope, how lovely to see you,” Violet suddenly proclaimed loudly, drawing everyone’s attention.

The red head stood on the threshold of the living room having been let in by Violet’s housekeeper. Colin stood up to greet her just as she was engulfed in a big hug by his mother.

“It’s good to see you too, Mrs Bridgerton,” she replied warmly.

“Violet, please, Penelope,” she reminded her as always.

“Violet,” dutifully repeated with a smile.

A smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes, Colin noted as he got closer to her. In fact, she looked a bit upset.

“Hello, Pen,” he greeted softly. He drew her into his embrace and felt her relax against him. “Are you okay?” he whispered into her ear.

“Just mum things,” she replied quietly, “I’m fine.”

He knew she wasn’t, but he didn’t push, he merely squeezed her a little tighter for a brief moment then pulled back.

“Come on, brother, don’t hog her,” Benedict piped up from behind him.

Colin sighed and reluctantly let her go. His brother was treading a very thin line and he knew it, damn him, judging by his smirk.

One by one, his siblings gave her hug and by the time they sat down for lunch, she seemed in better spirits. The time passed pleasantly and far too quickly for his liking, but soon it was time to leave. He had to drive to the station and pick up Eloise and Phillip as they were returning from their break, but offered to drop Penelope off first.

He really wanted some time alone with her, even if it was short.

“Thanks for the lift,” she said once they were on the way. “I had a nice time. Your mum is so lovely.”

There was a lot more to garner from what she didn’t say and he reached out to briefly squeeze her hands that were tightly clasped in her lap.

“She definitely has her moments,” he agreed with a nod.

Penelope fell silent for a moment then said quietly, “I don’t want to talk about it.”

“I know,” he replied, “But if you do, you know I’m here, right?”

She nodded, “I do. You’re a very good friend, Colin.”

Friend.

He gave her a brief smile and turned into her street then came to stop outside her house.

“Have you got time for a drink?” she asked hopefully.

He checked his watch and nodded.

“I’ve got about half an hour.”

They got out and he followed her up the path to her door. There, laying to one side on the step was a parcel, tied with red ribbon.

“Oh!” she exclaimed, “Another present.” She bent and picked it up then turned to him with a delighted smile. “Quick, let’s get inside and see what it is.”

She got her keys out and Colin took them off her as usual to open the door. They went in and she went straight into the kitchen to get the kettle on.

He felt his heart skip at the realisation that, despite her excitement over the gift, she still thought of him first.

“So, they must have dropped this off themselves,” she mused as they waited for the kettle to boil.

“Or had it couriered like yesterday,” Colin countered.

“There’s no label.” She held it up so that he could see then put it back down on the table with a huff. “I knew I should’ve got one of those camera doorbells,” she muttered in annoyance.

Colin was glad that she hadn’t.

“Are you going to open it then?”

She pursed her lips a second, drawing his gaze, then shook her head.

“Actually, no, I think I’ll wait until you leave,” she decided. “You haven’t got long and I’d rather spend it talking to you.”

There went his heart again and he looked down to hide his pleased smile. Only he could be happy that she was choosing him over himself.

What a lovesick fool.

The kettle clicked off and he made them both a coffee. They chatted for a while, the gift forgotten, and then he checked his watch again and let out a sigh. He really needed to go. He stood up but when she went to do the same, he gestured for her to stay seated.

“I’ll see myself out,” he told her, then bent to give her the now, customary kiss on her cheek.

As he straightened up, she reached out and grabbed his hand, stopping him. He looked down at her in surprise, eyes questioning.

“Thanks for today, Colin,” she said with a small smile. “For not pushing I mean. My mum can be…”

“Selfish? Rude? Self-absorbed? Mad as a box of frogs?” he suggested archly. “You can stop me anytime I’m wrong.”

“I would do, if you had been,” she replied wryly.

They looked at each other a second, then suddenly began to laugh.

“Sorry, I have to go, Pen,” Colin groaned a few moments later when their laughter had abated.

“I know. You can’t keep Eloise waiting, you’ll never hear the end of it,” she sympathised.

He rolled his eyes at that, then grinned and raised his hand in goodbye.

Penelope was still smiling when she heard the door close behind him. She’d needed that laugh. Her mother had been on form earlier that morning and it had got to her more than normal for some reason. It just did sometimes.

Determined not to let it ruin the rest of evening, she picked up the present and carefully unwrapped it.

It was three notebooks. Not just any notebooks though, they were from Hastings Handcraft Stationers. Daphne’s exclusive stationery brand. Beautiful leather-bound books with bespoke embossed covers.

The first was black with a pattern of golden bees. The second was jade with pale yellow pens adorning it. The third was a lovely pale blue with purple butterflies. And all of them bore her name in gorgeous gilt lettering.

She ran a hand over the black notebook feeling the ridges of the embossed pictures under her fingertips and smiled. She loved them. He knew her so well.

Looking back at the wrapping paper, she saw another folded note and eagerly opened it up to read...

My Dearest Penelope,

I hope you find these journals of use to you.

N is for Notebooks.

I sit and imagine you at your desk or in a coffee shop writing all your thoughts and hopes and dreams down in them.

Am I one of them, I wonder?

Have you yet made a list of who you think your secret admirer is?

Could I be on it?

Or am I someone you wouldn’t even consider?

All these questions and I shall have to wait for the answer, my love.

Indeed, soon, we shall both have our answers, and I just hope that you are happy with yours.

Yours always,

Penelope folded the note and put into her pocket. She wondered what Colin would do if he knew he’d been the only ever name on her list. Picking up all the books, she took them upstairs to her room. Opening the bedside drawer, she got out the ballpoint pen he’d sent and flipped back the cover of the black notebook.

She wrote down the date on the first page then underneath put:

My Darling Colin,

You have always been my only hope, my only dream and on many days, my only thought.

I need no list because you are it! You are my list.

It has always been you and will only ever be you, because I love you, too.

It feels good to put it out there finally, even if it is just in this book for now.

Soon, I hope to tell you in person.

Until Valentine’s Day, my love…

Forever yours

Pen x

She closed the book and smiled.

Until Valentine’s…

#nssa chapter 3 #polin fanfiction #polin #fluff

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bromfieldhall · 2 days ago

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(NOT SO) SECRET ADMIRER - Chapter 2 - A Polin Fic

SYNOPSIS: Colin decides to secretly woo Penelope over the course of a week leading up to Valentine's Day with the aid of his siblings.

Modern AU and pure fluff!

RATING: General

PAIRING: Colin Bridgerton/Penelope Featherington

Read from beginning on AO3 or here: Prologue,

Chapter 2 – E is for Eros (and Psyche)

February 8th

The second gift arrived just as they were sitting down for lunch.

Colin had arrived promptly at nine that morning, and Penelope had still been in her dressing gown.

“Sorry, hot water’s been playing up but it should be warm enough now, so I’ll just have a quick shower then be right down,” she’d said, beaming up at him. “Be a love and put the kettle on, would you?”

Colin had simply nodded and watched her go. It’s not as though he’d never seen her in her dressing gown before – it was just that he’d never seen her in that particular dressing gown before. All silky and clingy…and clingy.

The light pink material wrapped around her body like a second skin, showing off all her soft voluptuous curves and then some. It had been clear that she wasn’t wearing anything underneath and his hand had itched to take the end of the neat little bow she’d tied at her waist and give it a gentle pull to reveal what lay beneath.

Instead, he’d stared after her, slack jawed, as she’d walked up the stairs; worked some water into his suddenly dry mouth and dutifully gone to make them both some tea.

A few hours later and he still couldn’t get that image of her out of his mind. It had distracted him on more than one occasion while they’d been working through the first chapter of his book together sat at the kitchen table. She’d looked amazing and he knew very well that that gown was going to feature pretty damn predominantly in his dreams that night.

It was turning him on just thinking about it now…

He shifted in his seat, trying unsuccessfully to relieve some of the ache when Penelope placed a ham salad sandwich down by the side of his laptop and held up a couple of packs of crisps.

“Ready Salted or Salt and Vinegar?”

“Salt and Vinegar, please.”

She opened the bag and tipped the contents onto the plate next to the sandwich then did the same for her own with the other flavour and sat down next to him.

“Have you finished the edits?” she asked, picking up a small crisp and popping it into her mouth.

Before he could answer her, the doorbell rang, quickly followed by a couple of loud knocks.

“I think there’s somebody at the door,” he commented dryly.

Penelope smiled at him then got up to go and answer it. He took a bite of his sandwich and listened to the muted voices from the hallway, then the door closing before she walked back in the room carrying a medium sized box bound in red ribbon - and five large, heart shaped balloons.

Colin’s eyes widened then narrowed in faint annoyance.

Benedict.

Always having to take it a step further than necessary.

The balloons were weighted and she placed them in a corner then carried the parcel over to the table and put it down. She glanced over at him and he could see a slight blush start to stain her cheeks.

He wondered what she was going to do. She still hadn’t told him about the pens, nor had she said anything about their conversation the previous evening. He thought he’d been painfully obvious, but she was apparently more oblivious than him.

Although, in truth, he had tried to cover his tracks that morning by telling her that when he’d spoken about friend to lovers, he’d meant that he’d taken inspiration from his mother and father. She’d quickly assured him that she’d never thought anything else and the contrary side of him had taken offence.

He was a bloody mess.

“Looks like Valentine’s has come early,” he commented lightly. “Got a boyfriend out there somewhere that I don’t know about?”

Her flush deepened.

“Of course not,” she replied dismissively, then revealed a trifle coyly, “But I do have a secret admirer.” She paused and frowned a moment before adding, “Or an obsessed fan. I’m not too sure at the moment.”

“A secret admirer?” he repeated, biting back a smile.

“Or an obsessed fan, yes,” she reiterated quickly. “Anthony gave me some fan mail from work yesterday. One was a gift with a letter saying that I’d be getting something every day until Valentine’s. I’m guessing that this is it for today.”

“How intriguing. Why don’t you open it and see what it is?” he suggested, getting to his feet and going to stand next to her.

She nodded and undid the ribbon then lifted the lid. Inside was lots of tissue paper that she removed to reveal a square frame encased in bubble wrap. She got it out and retrieved some scissors from the kitchen drawer then sliced carefully through the wrap.

When she turned the frame over she let out an audible gasp.

It was a beautiful painting.

And it was of her.

“Oh my,” she breathed as she stared at the picture in awe.

There was a woman, her, laying on an ornate four poster bed wearing a sheer nightdress. Her intimate centre was artfully concealed by folds of material while her breasts were hidden under a cascade of riotous fiery curls. One arm was stretched up and curled around the top of her head while the other reached out towards the silhouette of a man in shadows off to the side. The expression on her face could only be described as love personified as she gazed at the shadowed man who, in turn, was also reaching out to her as if about to come out of the darkness.

“There’s a note,” said Colin softly, pulling it out of the box and handing it to her.

He watched while she read it, trying to gauge her reaction. She smiled and he relaxed. She’d loved the painting and seemed to like his letter. He had to hand it to his brother, he’d truly outdone himself with his painting. He’d captured Penelope’s essence so exquisitely that he could almost forgive him for the balloons.

Almost.

“It says that this depicts Eros and Psyche,” she told him quietly then folded the paper back up and put it in her pocket for safe keeping.

“Oh. The third daughter said to be more beautiful than Aphrodite herself,” he murmured, looking down at the painting with a smile. “I can see that.”

“Stop,” she said, blushing hard as she lightly batted his arm.

He grinned, feeling very pleased with himself.

“Well, it’s clear that whoever sent you this cares for you very much, Pen,” he told her firmly. “And I don’t think it’s an obsessed fan.”

“I don’t think it is either,” she replied with a smile. “I think it’s someone who knows me very well. Yesterday they gave me a beautiful set of pens and the letter accompanying them was…” she paused and stared off into space dreamily for a moment before continuing, “well - it was a little flowery, but overall very…nice.”

“Nice!” he exclaimed indignantly before he could stop himself. At her look of surprise, he quickly tempered his response and tried to cover. “I mean, that’s nice, that it’s nice…isn’t it? And isn’t a love letter supposed to be flowery?”

She regarded him consideringly a moment then nodded.

“I suppose you’re right,” she agreed.

“Of course I am,” he asserted and moved away to go and sit back down.

He picked up his sandwich and took a big bite. Flowery indeed. It was romantic, not flowery. Loving, passionate, even, but flowery? No. Not at all.

He was so engrossed in his internal musings that he failed to notice Penelope fighting to hide her smile before her gaze was drawn to the painting again. It truly was a stunning piece of art. As she took in all the little details, she suddenly noticed that it had been signed by the artist.

A certain Bridgerton brother.

Oh, this was even better.

“Benedict painted this,” she announced with just the right amount of surprise in her voice. She looked over at him in time to see the colour drain from his face.

“Wha…?” he asked around his mouthful of food.

“Benedict. Your brother. He painted this. Look, he signed it.” She held up the painting and shoved almost into his face as she pointed out his brother’s familiar scrawl. “I’m going to call him and see who sent this.”

Colin let out a kind of choking sound that pleased her immensely and she grabbed her phone. She got his number up in her contacts and pressed the call button. As it started to ring, she laid it on the table and tapped ‘speaker’ so that Colin could hear as well.

“Pen…” he began but then Benedict picked up.

“Penelope, how lovely to hear from you.”

“Hi Benedict, I have a quick question I wanted to ask you,” she said, shooting a smile at Colin.

He merely managed something that resembled a pained grimace more than a smile in return.

“About that painting, right? I was expecting a call. I suppose you want to know who sent it?”

Colin cleared his throat loudly.

“Should you be really offering up that kind of information, brother?” he chimed in challengingly.

“Ah, Colin, hello to you too. I normally wouldn’t say anything but as Penelope is such a dear friend to the family and I know it won’t go any further, I don’t see the harm.”

Laughter accompanied his words and Penelope saw Colin’s jaw tighten in response.

“Benedict,” he tried again but was cut off by his brother.

“The name on the order and on all their correspondence was V N Tine. Obviously fake, but they were clear in what they wanted and paid upfront so who am I to quibble?”

“Oh, okay, thanks,” she replied with an overly loud sigh.

“Sorry I can’t be of more help, Penelope, but do you like the painting?”

“I love it, Benedict, really. It’s so beautiful,” she told him truthfully.

“As is the subject,” he answered smoothly.

“Goodbye, brother,” Colin all but growled suddenly as he leaned forward and hit screen to end the call.

“Colin!” Penelope admonished with a surprised laugh.

“What?” he asked, all innocence. “He finished talking.”

She gave him another mildly censorious look then took the seat next to him to have her lunch. They spent the rest of the afternoon going through the next chapter of his book then got some food in for dinner.

They retired to the living room and popped on an old classic film. He casually put his arm around her shoulders and she settled against him as they watched in companionable silence. When it finished, she walked him to the door and when he turned to say goodnight, Penelope reached up and brushed her lips against his cheek.

“Night,” she murmured when she pulled back.

“Yeah,” he mumbled, simply staring at her in surprise for a moment; then he shook his head slightly and grinned. “Night, Pen. I’ll see you tomorrow at mum’s.”

He walked off to his car and Penelope locked the door behind him before going to get the painting to take it upstairs to her room. She placed it carefully on top of her chest of drawers then sat on her bed and pulled the note out of her pocket to read it again.

As before, it was printed…

My Dearest Penelope,

My second gift to you is this painting.

E is for Eros (and Psyche)

You, of course, are Psyche, your beauty unparalleled in my eyes and I would give anything to be your Eros. Although if I was, I would not want to use one of my arrows on you. I would not want to sway any feelings you may have.

I would want you to love me for me.

One day I hope that you will.

Yours always,

Penelope smiled. She already did love him for him and she very much looked forward to the day she would finally be able to tell him. Folding up the note, she placed it in the drawer next to the other one and got ready for bed. And as she succumbed to slumber, her dreams were filled of myth, magic and one very familiar dark-haired, blue eyed archer with wings.

#nssa chapter 2 #nssa fic chapter 2 #polin fanfiction #fluff

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