#char: colin bridgerton

[lovebugcody]

“for god’s sake, penelope featherington, are you going to marry me or not? 😊🥰🥹” BROOOOOOO that’s how i wanna be proposed to

[pensbridgrton]

Only reason y’all cry about Colin being demi is because y’all know he’s boring as hell and are desperately trying to give him some sauce sorry nobody’s buying it

at least i guess we’ve moved past the “your fave being queer is a punishment” era i guess

[kittenfangirl20]

*Charlie and Lucifer start watching Bridgerton, when they finish watching the first season*

Lucifer: Colin better turn his butt around and tell Penelope that he is in love with her. He is going to regret it if he doesn’t.

Charlie: Why do I feel like this isn’t about just Colin Bridgerton.

Lucifer: Why would you say that Char Char, do you think that I see myself in Colin and I see Adam in Penelope? Now I am haunted by images of Adam loving me how Penelope is loving Colin and how heartbroken Adam would get because I was an idiot who didn’t see that we were meant for each other.

Charlie: You said it, I didn’t.

*Lucifer was upset until he got to Season 3 and his favorite ship got together and he really empathized with how Colin always wanted to talk about Penelope because he always wanted to talk about Adam*

[checkoutmybookshelf]

Of Fire and Featheringtons: Chapter 6

Well hello friends, and welcome to my second Polin fic! This one builds on The Polin Fic (I Could Have Told You 'Bout the Long Nights on Ao3) so be sure to read that before diving into this one!

Like the other one, this fic is safe for work, but a few warnings do apply! If house fires, house fire injuries, mild gore, and mild blood aren't your thing, then don't be afraid to give this fic a pass. I'll be updating it twice a week here and on Ao3, so check back for updates.

I hope you enjoy this Polin fic, I had a blast writing it!

Back at Bridgerton House, hot baths were waiting in all their rooms. Colin dismissed Anna and all the servants from the room they shared, insisting he and Pen would manage. In truth, he simply couldn’t manage the costs of propriety through his panic for Pen. She had stopped crying and gone absolutely silent and stone-faced in the carriage back to Bridgerton House. She hadn’t responded to him or anyone else verbally, although she had managed navigating the house without issue. Her mind simply wasn’t present, and that frightened Colin more than the sight of the blood covering her face and torso had in that stairwell. She was strong, he knew that, but he couldn’t free her from whatever hell her mind had trapped her in.

He had shucked off his charred jacket and waistcoat, hoping she would come back to reality as he did so. He was desperate to get the brownish-red dried blood off of her but was afraid to get her directly into the bath—she could do herself an injury if she came back to herself and was in such a vulnerable position. Instead, he sat her in a particularly comfortable armchair, speaking softly about nothing in particular. One by one, he pulled her singed, sooty gloves off, and then held both her hands in his good one—he had slipped his broken arm back into the sling in the carriage to avoid doing himself an injury—holding them over his heart in the hopes that she might focus on his heartbeat and come back.

“Pen?” No response. Colin was trembling. He couldn’t simply do nothing. Gently putting her hands in her lap and going to one knee before her, he reached for a washcloth and dipped it in the bathwater, clumsily wringing it out one-handed.

“Pen, may I get some of that muck off your face?” Nothing. He shook one of her arms gently, repeating the question. Still nothing. Heart in his stomach and sinking rapidly, Colin gently reached up and began to dab her face. The first swipe or two of the warm cloth elicited no reaction, but on the third swipe, Penelope flinched back. Colin reared back, staying below Penelope and holding up his hand as he would if he had startled one of his sisters.  

“It’s only me, Pen. It’s Colin,” he said. For the first time since they had emerged from Lady Danbury’s carriage earlier that evening, her eyes focused and found his face.

“It’s cold,” she said, uncertainly. The blazing fire in the room and the still-steaming tub gave lie to the comment, but Colin was not about to contradict her.

“Let’s get you warm,” he said. She nodded, stood, and reached behind her for the buttons on her dress. After fumbling for a moment, she dropped her arms and turned her back to Colin. Looking over her shoulder, she asked, “Please?”

“Of course.” He draped the washcloth over the edge of the tub and rose, unbuttoning her dress and sliding it off her shoulders. He left it where it fell on the floor as she stepped out of it, back still to him. It was destined for the rag bin, anyway. He splayed his hand on her waist next to the laces of her corset.

“This too?”

“Yes.”

Mentally blessing Anna for using a knot that came undone with only a few gentle tugs on the free end of the lace, Colin undid and loosened Penelope’s stays, the structured garment sliding to the floor. The front stained with blood but not crusted as her overgown was. Quiet questions and simple, clear answers saw Pen undressed, and Colin wrapped an arm around her waist, supporting and balancing her as she climbed into the big copper tub and promptly curled into a ball, only her nose above the waterline. Her skin was covered in goosepimples, and she seemed to shiver in the warm water. Colin went to divest himself of shirt and breeches but stopped, hesitant. Pen’s eyes flicked to his, and she nodded, barely, and leaned toward him without uncurling.

He slid out of the remainder of his clothing and carefully climbed into the tub with her, hanging his splinted arm over the edge of the tub to keep it from getting wet and sitting up straighter than usual to keep direct heat off his still-tender burn scars. Once he was situated, she scooted into his lap and curled back into a ball, head resting on his chest, still only her nose poking out of the water. He wrapped his good arm around her, simply holding her for long moments as the water loosened fire grime, soot, and blood from their skin.

Between the well-stoked fire, warm water, and his body heat, Penelope slowly seemed to warm up, and her muscles relaxed. He reached for the washcloth again. Although the water was getting the blood on her lower face and chest, she had not submerged her entire face, and she had a patch of blood on her forehead. She sighed quietly through her nose and leaned into the washcloth as he wiped away Felix’s blood. As he rinsed the washcloth in the tub, Pen shifted in his lap, sitting up so her shoulders were clear of the water. She lifted both hands and began fishing pins out of her hair. The ones in the front came out without issue, but she grimaced as she yanked on the ones in the back. Dried blood had more or less glued them in place.

Colin lifted the washcloth, meaning to wring it out over her head to try to loosen the pins, but Penelope gently took his wrist and shook her head. Steadying herself with hands on his shoulders, she arched back, dipping her hair into the water. After a few still moments, she gently shook her still-submerged head, releasing a reddish cloud into the water.

We’ll need a second tub for rinsing, realized Colin. Trying to help her, he took some soap in his palm, threaded his fingers into the hair at the back of her head, and massaged gently, loosening things. Her eyes closed, and she went still. She did not smile—Colin suspected she would not for some time yet—but her jaw relaxed, and she released her neck, letting the water and his hand support her head. Slowly, he worked the pins holding her hair up loose, and it relaxed into the water. She sat back up as Colin set the pins in his hand on the table next to the tub, shivering as her hair cooled in the air and looking sideways at the now-cloudy water. She stood at his gentle pat to her hip and stepped out of the tub to wrap a drying cloth about herself. Colin did the same and then pulled the bell for the servants.

A gentle knock at the door a few moments later revealed several footmen with a second copper tub and kettles of hot water. Anna—who Colin made a mental note to submit for sainthood—was also there with a fresh stack of drying cloths, which she left next to the fire so they would be warm. After preparing the second tub, Colin and Penelope were again left alone. Climbing into the clean, hot water with appreciative hisses, Colin and Penelope settled in again. Pen dunked her hair once more, running fingers through it to ensure no pins had been missed and all the soap was out. Then, she settled against Colin’s chest, eyes closed, breathing with him. Time seemed to still.

It was only when Colin felt Pen’s body relax into the posture that meant she had slipped into sleep that he noticed that the curls at the crown of her hair had largely dried and frizzed up, and the water was not warm enough to be comfortable anymore.

“Pen,” he murmured, shifting her gently. She blinked sleepily up at him. She stood with him and stepped out of the tub. He wrapped her, then himself, in drying cloths. The pair more or less fell into bed with Colin clumsily pulling the covers over them in the moments before Penelope’s gentle breathing soothed him to sleep as well.

It hadn’t happened this way! Penelope stood frozen to the stairs, unrestrained by anything but that strange quality nightmares had to hold your body in place. She watched as Felix grabbed Colin by his lapels and grinned at her, saying, “Don’t worry Cousin, I will not be harmed,” before he threw them both into the roaring flames. Colin’s screams echoed in her ears as Felix emerged from the conflagration, and suddenly Augie and Edmund were in his arms, terrified and struggling. They called for her, begged her to rescue them, but she could not move. Felix backed into the flames with them, laughing.

When he appeared again, he held Eloise in a bridal carry. “How did you fail to see what he is?” wailed Eloise as Felix delivered her, too, to the fire, and Eloise’s screams joined those of Colin, Augie, and Edmund. It was the sight of Violet Bridgerton walking sedately into the fire after her children and grandchildren on Felix’s arm that broke Penelope. She screamed, falling to her knees.

A loud thud and babbled voices interrupted her sight for a moment, and the next thing she saw was flames inches from her nose as she screamed again…

“Pen!”

Her eyes flew open; she was wrapped too tightly in a drying cloth, Colin above her in their bed at Bridgerton House, naked to the waist, his own drying cloth and the bedclothes barely keeping him covered. He called her name, telling her she was safe, that he was there. Also in her field of vision were Violet, Kate, and Eloise. She was still screaming, she realized, and Eloise’s face was white, with tear tracks down both cheeks. She was frightening her friend; she had to stop.

A herculean effort that made her jaw crack in her head closed her mouth, cutting off the scream. Bridgerton voices came from the door. Had she woken the entire household? She was still too tightly wrapped; she needed to breathe. Struggling to free her arms and legs, Kate and Violet reached down to help her. Simultaneously, their eyes went wide, and both whipped their heads toward the door, ordering the men out and admonishing them to close the door for heaven’s sake. A resounding slam heralded sudden silence, except for the rustling of fabric as Penelope fought her way loose and resettled the drying cloth loosely around her in a halfhearted nod to propriety. If Violet, Kate, and Eloise had not been before her, she would certainly have tumbled out of bed entirely.

Penelope lifted her head and met Violet’s eyes.

“I didn’t know what he was, I swear,” she whispered, feeling like she was about to fall off a cliff. Violet pulled her into a hug.

“Of course not dearest. There’s no way you could have known,” she said. A tight band around Penelope’s heart snapped, and she sobbed into her mother-in-law’s shoulder. Kate and Eloise wrapped their arms around Violet and Penelope as well, letting Penelope cry. As her tears subsided, she hiccupped, startling a giggle out of herself. She heard Colin sigh behind her, and she felt the bed move as he began to rise before Eloise shrieked, “Colin, do not!”

“Oh for heaven’s sake, Eloise—” he snapped, settling back to the bed as he recalled his own lack of appropriate clothing. Pulling back from Violet, Penelope wiped her eyes on the edge of the drying cloth still wrapped around her.

“Thank you,” she said, for Violet’s ears alone. She received a warm smile and a squeezed hand before the older woman rose.

“Well, we shall let you two compose yourselves. Eloise, Kate.” The three left the room.

Colin rose and pulled on some smallclothes, collecting a clean chemise and shawl for Penelope. Once she was dressed and wrapped in the shawl, she took a tailor’s seat on the bed facing Colin. Her face was down, watching as her fingers fidgeted with a loose loop of yarn in the knitted shawl. Colin sat on the edge of the bed, one foot tucked beneath him, the other on the floor.

“Pen, look at me,” he said softly, almost pleading. Her eyes flicked to his face for a moment and then returned to her hands.

“Penelope, love. Nothing that happened this summer is your fault.”

She did not believe that she held no responsibility for what had happened or for what was likely to come; the guilt weighed too heavily on her heart and roiled too acidly for her to dismiss. However, Colin was exhausted. The dark circles beneath his eyes spoke volumes, as did the heaviness of his eyelids. He held his splinted arm up at an angle across his chest that told her in no uncertain terms that it hurt him. Sleep was what Colin needed right now, and Penelope’s thoughts and feelings were too raw, too tangled for her to articulate fully. If she told him how she felt now, they would be talking about it until the sun rose. Besides, if Penelope was being truly honest with herself, they had insufficient information at this moment to either allay or justify her guilt and fears. So, rather than argue, she pasted a half-hearted smile on her face.

“No, of course. I’m sure I’m simply overwrought from the day,” she said. Colin’s eyes narrowed. 

“Why do I not believe that?” he asked. 

“Colin…I have not the words just now to explain it myself. Please, can we try to sleep?” He shifted, pulling his other foot up and allowing himself to slump back down. He didn’t believe her; she could see it in his eyes, but his own tiredness and pain were enough that he lacked the will to fight her, especially given a cogent, reasonable answer. 

“This is not a period on the conversation,” he warned her as they lay down and his unbroken arm came across her belly, unconsciously settling above her scar. “We will discuss this when you’re ready.” 

“I know,” she whispered, as Colin’s eyes closed. She waited until he was snoring robustly beside her and had turned in his sleep so he was not holding her to carefully slide out of bed and retreat to the library. She was too rattled to read, but paging through books eventually calmed her as pre-dawn light slowly filled the room. 

When Penelope dragged herself into the breakfast room later that morning, a clump of Bridgertons surrounded Anthony, and Penelope was too tired to try to sort through the overlapping voices as she collected herself a cup of tea and a scone. 

“Good morning, Penelope!” trilled Hyacinth. The babble of voices around Anthony cut off immediately. 

“The papers have it already, do they?” she asked, forestalling the inevitable equivocation that they hadn’t all been discussing Felix’s crimes and arrest as she walked in. 

“I’m afraid so,” said Anthony. “I shall meet with our solicitor this morning and prepare. It is entirely likely that the crown solicitor will wish to meet with you, Penelope. I assure you that you have our full support.”

“Full support for what?” Colin had entered the room and was at the sideboard, loading himself a plate. 

“Mr. Featherington’s trial,” answered Hyacinth, completely ignoring the quelling look Anthony sent her way. “The crown solicitor is going to put Penelope on the stand, like as not.” The lid of the chafing dish slammed as Colin spun to face the room.

“Like hell he will,” he growled. 

“Colin, language,” came Violet’s soft voice.

“I am meeting with our solicitor in an hour. Shall I expect your company?” asked Anthony. 

“I should think so. For every meeting, Anthony.” Colin did not return to making up his plate until Anthony agreed that Colin should be present at any and all meetings about the issue. 

Unready to look at what the papers were saying, Penelope leaned over Sophie’s shoulder to read her scandal sheet. She flinched back at the title: The Featherington Firebug Flames Out! If even the scandal sheets had the story, then there would be no hiding any of the details. Her mama would know about this by now, and her aunt would surely hear by tomorrow at the very latest. She could not put off writing a letter explaining things, but she had no explanation. She needed sleep but was sure she would have nightmares if she tried, so she would have to do her best to compose some sort of letter while sleep deprived. Ought she invite her aunt here? 

Her mind was still dully poking at things she really should address until Anthony and Colin left to see the solicitor. They were gone most of the day, and Penelope spent the time struggling to write letters to her family explaining the situation. Overall, it was a quiet day, and it was the last quiet day for quite some time. 

The next day, Penelope received a note from her mama informing her that Aunt Ophelia Featherington, née Allen, was on her way into town from her country home and was expected to arrive in three days’ time. Penelope was strongly invited (ordered, really, but her mama had not used the word) to Featherington House to greet her and explain what on earth had happened.

Penelope had refused all offers of accompaniment from the women of Bridgerton House–although she had been surprisingly tempted to accept Hyacinth’s offer of accompaniment; adding Hyacinth to the situation would be akin to dropping a fox among the chickens, and that level of chaos was appealing. Colin and Anthony had another meeting with the family solicitor, and Penelope was grateful that she had not had to explain to Colin why she did not want him at the first meeting with Felix’s mother. 

The visit had been painfully awkward. Aunt Ophelia was a willowy, nearly translucent woman with deeply sad eyes, and Penelope had nearly broken a seven-year streak of not crying in front of her mother when she saw the lack of blame in her aunt’s eyes. Both Ophelia and Penelope had let Portia prattle on about how important it was to raise young men correctly so that they did not bring scandal to themselves or their families. Penelope had not so much as sighed in protest when Portia spent nearly three-quarters of an hour explaining that Penelope had been doomed to fail Felix because she had no children of her own after over a year of marriage. Aunt Ophelia had simply sat on the old green sofa in the Featherington sitting room and sipped tea, occasionally tilting her head or humming politely in acknowledgement of Portia’s direct assertions.  

After that meeting, Penelope had returned to Bridgerton House and hidden in a back corner of the library to cry herself out. Colin had found her there at dinnertime, trapped in nightmares. She had excused herself to bed rather than come to dinner with the family, somewhat weakly claiming a headache. She had eventually fallen asleep again, and did not hear Colin either come to bed or rise the next morning. Just missing each other became a pattern, and despite Colin’s insistence that they would talk about things, the proper time simply did not materialize.

In the six weeks it took the crown to prepare their case for trial, Colin and Anthony met almost daily with the Bridgerton’s solicitor, as well as the Featherington and crown solicitors. As Anthony had predicted, once the crown solicitor became involved, he did indeed want to interview Penelope. He also sent a request through the Bridgerton’s solicitor for copies of all Penelope’s correspondence with both her aunt and cousin. He had asked for Colin’s as well, but Colin had not directly corresponded with either. He had accompanied Penelope back to their house to collect the letters, but they barely made it to the door through a crowd of gawkers and busybodies who bombarded them with questions and accusations.  Penelope had been obliged to redo several copies of letters that day after tears smudged things into illegibility. After that, the only people who visited Colin and Penelope’s home were servants, and only after dark, through the back door, to avoid causing a riot. 

[lizzibennet]

I definitely don’t think bridgerton is gonna cancelled after s3, they’re surely doing s4. I’m not sure about subsequent seasons honestly. That will depend from views and if s3 will have a significant drop I think it means the peak was reached and s4 will have less views than s3 and on and on. Which I think is also why they made s3 about Colin and s4 about Benedict. Benedict has a catch and he’s a fanfavorite so it’s more likely ga will watch his season. The problem is that if s3 tanks (which I don’t think it will, but still who knows), I don’t think s4 will be a hit. I definitely think they’ve lost the majority of the SA audience they had in s2, unless they use Simone in promo but lol they didn’t use her in her own season so they probably won’t. But in general I think that because it worked one time, it doesn’t mean that the “one sibling a season” structure will work everytime, cause the risk is there every year and to me they’re doing nothing to get the audience engaged. The writing isn’t helping cause instead of making the ga care about the principals they’re adding plots that last a season and then that character disappears and to me it’s completely nonsense. The promo sucks and 90% of the people involved in the show needs media training. Personally I’ve completely lost interest and I don’t know if I’ll watch s3 honestly 🤷🏻‍♀️

yeah i don't have much to add bc u said it all! i definitely think the writing is not helping with keeping the audience interested for many seasons on end. that is very clear and i hope they've at least heard some of that feedback, though it seems there was not much time between s2 and writing s3 so who knows... i really hope they manage to pull it all together better, because the family dynamics are definitely my fav part of the show by far. i'm really hoping that regé leaving was the reason they didn't pull much from s1 and that moving forward they do a better job of following up with the past seasons' chars. especially w kate and anthony now being the heads of the family! it would be really disappointing if they don't explore that now esp when k&a are definitely more popular than daphne and simon.

i also think "one sibling a season" will not work forever, especially because in the later books some of the stories are happening at the same time... i like the idea of benedict perhaps already meeting sophie this season and looking for her but only having that resolved in the next. i also like the idea of fran meeting john now but not being a huge focus and michael only showing up in her season. we'll have to wait and see but i think that would be smart and would warrant less bullshit plots that disappear after 1 season which you're right doesn't make sense at all. you have enough characters damn it use them!

[chadmingarchives]

someone tell me that i shouldn't write any bridgerton muse until I finish the books please

[folklauerate]

DROP SOME DEETS ON NED AND CHAR’S STORIES WITH HASTE

I want everyone to know that this is a HILARIOUS ask because Leah probably knows the absolute most about these fics lol! I just come into her DMs and talk about it and then she responds and we freak out about work that IS NOT EVEN OUT YET. A true friend <3

For those not in the know, whenever I write my fics, I always do a lot of character work and work out other backstories and things. I honestly think it's just the actor in me - and the obsessive planner in me. It's why the Cowboy Like Me text fic exists (that started out as a writing exercise and as a way for me to keep tabs on what the extended ensemble's activities were before all the plots merged) and it's why the Simon Lovers Twitter gc knows allll about the Richard and Hermione backstory that didn't make the cut in the OTWTTW text fic (maybe one day I'll do a Rimoine text fic lol). So when I was plotting out my "Miles the Rake" fic, I had to plot out his siblings marriages; one, because, well, character work, and both Ned and Char would be married before Miles, and two, because I wanted the characters to be featured heavily in Miles' stories and I wanted to have a strong sense of who they were and who their partners were. Minor spoiler that their partners are involved in Miles' love story with Arshi, so it just made sense to plot it out.

The trouble was that the more I wrote, the more I fell in love with these characters and their stories.

Without giving too much away, I'll give inquiring minds this;

Ned and Rosie are childhood best friends to lovers. They've essentially been best friends since they were born, in love since they were two, and their story is filled with such sweet, misguided, innocent mutual pining, mutual jealousy, and so much love and selflessness :,) I love these crazy kids. They get married when they're 22 because they really just can't wait. I love them, your honor! (I've already chatted about them SO MUCH on Twitter, that I won't do a writing sneak peek)

Now, Charlotte and Alex I have not chatted about on Twitter, so here's a sneak peek:

The air was hot, stiflingly so. 

Biting the inside of her cheek, Charlotte offered a group of mamas a delicate smile as she wove past them, gracefully dodging the rest of the crowd as she made her way towards the doors. The ballroom was packed - then again, any party the Viscountess Bridgerton hosted was always bound to garner a large crowd. Her mother had gained quite the reputation for themed parties, and tonight’s had ensured that Charlotte was dressed in a gown decorated with pearls and scales, her long hair in a braided crown - she was a mermaid. 

Of course, Charlotte had not been the only Bridgerton to be roped into costume; her entire family was made to dress as some sort of underwater spectacle. She could see her parents right now; her mother was gamely sporting a gown that extended into eight large tentacles that followed behind her wherever she went, clearly delighting in how dramatic her homage to the great sea witch was. Her father, to his credit, also looked pleased with his costume; he’d donned it begrudgingly, apparently having lost a bet to her mother, but once he discovered that he could actually poke people with his trident, he’d been a steadfast presence in the ballroom since then, not slinking off like he usually did during one of these events, all in favor of seeing how many times he could stab her uncle Colin on his behind. 

Still, as diverting as it usually was to stay and watch her parents tread the line between charmingly eccentric and downright insane, the ballroom had grown too hot for Charlotte. 

But not in temperature, no. 

Charlotte Bridgerton was a lady. She did not usually get flustered or bothered. But here she was, both of those things. 

[myssparklesbookrants]

FICTIONAL CHARACTERS I WISH WERE TRUE SO THAT I COULD DATE THEM or stare at them from afar

HIWow! It was hard choosing a first topic to talk about. I felt like I needed to talk about something big and glamorous to blow the brains out of… of someone. But alas, this is my best, for now..

So, I chose the first one that I had listed on the top of my head ever since I first started reading.

<ta da!>

BOOK BOYFRIENDS!

This is a list of MEN or BOYS who tickle the romantic bone just right! (I had dreamed that there was such an organ in the human body, just near the stomach)

I selected these FICTIONAL BOYFRIENDS as potential members of my harem If I ever defy normal Filipino conceptions of marriage and take up polyandry.

The criteria I used is simple.

  Choose the fictional partners that I can imagine existing in real life  (not too much of an alpha and rich or good looking that borders on unbelievable). The type of characters that I can imagine talking to, who I find fascinating and can be a potential long-time partner, casual hook up or best friend.

 I originally wanted to stick to 10. But as I wrote, a lot of names popped up and I can’t not put them in the list but still, I am sure after I have this article published (Char! Haha) there will be a lot of “Shoot! Why did I not put him on the list???” exclamations. So, maybe I will eventually make another continuation list???

This list is based on the BOOKS I READ so if  you have a bet that I didn’t list, please don’t hesitate to give a recom. A new book to swoon over is always welcome.

 Most Importantly: READ THE BOOKS WHERE THESE AMAZING CHARACTERS CAME FROM. I liked them because of their wit, their personality, how they interacted with other people, their dreams and how their love for their other half made them better people or vice versa. MEANING: THE BOOK WAS WICKED AWESOME AND THE AUTHOR WAS A GOOD STORYTELLER.

(I must apologize for the lack of female to female romantic partner mentions given my current lack of FF Romance reads, which is something I will rectify soon. But if you have recommendations, feel free to comment below and maybe add some MM ones too!)

Anyway, meet…

1. Clayton Danvers and Lucas Cortez

Kelley Armstrong’s  Women of the Underworld Series

Genre: Horror fiction, Paranormal romance, Urban fantasy 

This series is adapted on screen called ‘Bitten’ which is available on Netflix.

Clayton Danvers is the strong, silent, and smart type. He is a professor in a university where he met Elena(his student) and a werewolf! His devotion to Elena was sweet, passionate and faithful to the point that bordered on obsessive but not off putting. The best thing about him was how un-Alpha he was. Although he was strong , his relationship with Elena was a partnership.

This is what romance needs today guys! A PARTNER not a rich and condescending daddy!

Lucas Cortez, on the other hand, is a lawyer/sorcerer, young master of a Cabal Group, who informally separates from his family's company to pursue a life as a lawyer protecting the rights of other magical beings against abusive Cabals(including his family's). Unlike Clayton, he was slender with brown eyes behind glasses. So basically, a cute, smart nerd who is the 'good' black sheep of the family.

(they are in separate books with different female romantic partners)

2. Quinn Sullivan

Penny Reid’s Neanderthal Meets Human

Genre: Contemporary Romance

Quin…*sighs*... So awesome! He was quiet, mysterious,unsmiling, rich and had an almost perfect handsome face. I love that the author imagined small flaws like almost unnoticeable  crooked bottom front teeth and differing sizes of his ears with one prominent feature -his hawk-like stare. BUT MOST IMPORTANTLY, he took Janie's quirkiness in stride. Asking questions, debating, protecting, annoying, kissing…. You know the drill..😉

3. Beau Winston

Penny Reid’s Beard in Mind

Genre: Contemporary Romance

On first read, Beau was a good looking, charming good boy who is looking for his path after his twin, Duane left to pursue his own.

What I loved about him was how he dealt with Shelley's(Quinn's Sister) clinically diagnosed mental illness(OCD). He researched about it and made efforts to make it easier for her and was just overall supportive. 

It was awesome how much the author has put an effort in researching OCD facts to make details perfectly accurate and how it was NOT at all a hastily placed plot device to get the story going. 

4.Ted Beaudine

Susan Elizabeth Phillips’ Call Me Irresistible

Genre: Contemporary Romance

Hello to my favorite romance book of all time!

 I think I have read this many times already and have to put off re-reading it again for next year(2021)  to give my brain some time to forget some of the plot. We need to keep the mystery going! amiright??

Anyway, Ted was the perfect genius, good boy and people pleasing guy. He is perfectly polite, straight laced  and has basically carried the whole town in his muscled shoulders for years. (Did I tell you he was the Mayor?) 

Meg's carefree life and struggles basically tickled his good boy bone the wrong way.

Read this novel to witness how a perfect boy and wastrel girl turned out in the end. Seriously Please Read!

5.  Patrick Jason 'Pick' Ryan

Linda Kage' Be My Hero

Genre: Contemporary Romance

  He was the tattoed, orphan softie on the wrong side of town who thankfully did not grow up a thug because of a vision he got when he was young from a moled witch.

One day, his tinkerbell, the star of his visions, enters the bar he works at, but PREGNANT!

Gosh! I loved this so much. This was part of the Forbidden Men Series but can read as a stand alone. Although, I advise you to read the other books also, they were all awesome!

6. Colin Bridgerton

 Julia Quin’s Bridgerton Series

Genre: Historical Fiction/ Romance

Charming, green eyed and younger son, Colin was considered a catch of the ton.

He had a case of wanderlust and couldn't stay at one place without getting an itch. I can't say more without giving a major spoiler, but I loved that the author made him major insecurities.

Because secretly,too perfect is boring, right??

7. Sean Cassidy

Penny Reid and L.H Cosway's  The Player and the Pixie

Genre: Contemporary Romance

Wewowewowewo. *sexy flames* 

Imagine a gorgeous jerk of a jock with sexual inexperience and a rainbow haired goody goody shoes girl (whose brother is his ultimate enemy) who is willing to be the TEACHER!

But it was more than that, I liked how the authors highlighted the perils of kleptomania, the privilege of the rich and how gorgeous jerks are set straight by their women who would not suffer in a relationship with a class A insensitive jerk just because he was good looking and rich.

This was a ride! I lost count how many times I re-read this book.

8. Elend Venture

Branson Sanderson’s Mistborn Trilogy

Genre: High Fantasy

Elend was the angsty boy part of the elite class who is disgusted by his privilege and looks for ways to make the government better by reading outlawed books that spark rebellious and forward ideas. In short, he was a closet revolutionary.

Throughout the series there were some major changes in his life from a closet reader to a person who pursues ideas he just once read in books?

How do they say it? Walk the talk or in his case, Walk the read? (talking about it would mean death)

9.Archer Devereux

April White’s The Immortal Descendants Series

Genre: Time Travel Romance/ Historical Fantasy

Dumdumdumdum. Imagine a conservative college boy from the past your future self time traveled in, spends time with you, helps you in your quest, likes you secretly and is shy about it and becomes a vampire stuck in immortality waiting to meet the 'present' you.

Talk about love lasting through time! This was a great book if you love time travel stories with historically accurate and interesting facts injected heavily into the story! 

10. Rupert Carsington

Loretta Chase’ Mr. Impossible

Genre: Historical Fiction/Romance

A hellion younger son of an earl who loves an adventurous carefree life who is without inhibition, just goes along the ride and has a set of surprisingly caring and dependable muscled shoulders.

Meets a beautiful tempered scholar who needs his help finding his kidnapped brother in the sands of Egypt.

This is perfect for those who love adventure romances, and topics on the papyrus, mummies and the french and British looting conflict in the African colonies.

11. Sebastian Ballister

Loretta Chase’ Lord of Scoundrels

Genre: Historical Fiction/Romance

My favorite Historical Romance book ever!! Like Ted Beaudine's book, I try to read this at least once or twice a year to forget some of the plot and keep the mystery going.

He was called the Marquess of Dain and has been raising hell since childhood and in the present day France where he meets the blue stocking Jessica. The author throughout the book continually refers to them as the Beauty and the Beast.

What makes this book SPECIAL is how intelligent, witty and funny most of their conversations were. It's funny how many books are under many sexy, funny and witty lists on goodreads but only some of those on the list are actually true! THIS BOOK IS ONE OF THEM!

Jess was not annoying or shy or too much of a fighter and Dain was not too obnoxious. It was perfect.

And if you have not read this book or others from this author or genre, I command you to start reading after you finish this article.Break some cherries!

12.  Hardy Cates

Liza Kleypas’ Blue Eyed Devil

Genre: Contemporary Romance

A blue neck Town boy chasing dreams outside of town to leave the shithole of a living. He has white knight complexes but leaves the damsel in distress after the case is solved. Also, muscular and has the blunt and bluest  eyes on Texas 

This book I have also reread many times because it talks about dealing with domestic abuse and moving on after an abusive relationship, dealing with people who have narcissistic disorder and the life of the privileged.

13. Connor ‘Mad’ Rogan

Illona Andrews’ Hidden Legacy Series

Genre: Paranormal Romance (PNR)

Wootwootwoot. Imagine a former military but now head of the House 'Mad' Rogan successfully publicly kidnapping you in broad daylight using only wads of cloth. Talk about a powerful telekinetic! 

I loved that he was once again, A partner in the relationship and not an overprotective ape despite him being awfully more powerful than Nevada.

14.Phil Tucker

Jennifer Crusie Welcome to Temptation

Genre: Contemporary Romance

This is written by an author whose ALL BOOKS WRITTEN i have read and loved.

 Phil is part of a long line of male Mayors in the family and meets almost fugitive-like Sophie. 

Read as they deal with each other, try to take down a production of town porn video, deal with an enemy, try to dirty Phil down to win the next election and spend time reading a romance classic.

15.  Ansel Guillaume

Christina Lauren’s Sweet Filthy Boy

Genre: Contemporary Romance

Known for the many explicit sexy times that can be read throughout the book. So, if you want to stay green in the ears, skip this one till you're legal.

Ansel is a sweet, full of life French Lawyer celebrating with friends in LA and Mia with her friends also, celebrating their newly graduated from college selves.

Ansel is soft, a daydreamer, magnificent bringer of orgasms and game with all things Mia is willing to do.

They married through Elvis and decided to not divorce yet to explore the beautiful France and a  possibility of a good relationship.

AND DONE!

I actually have a lot more but these are for now.

CONSIDER THIS LIST AS A BOOK RECOMMENDATION FOR AWESOME ROMANCES WITH WELL WRITTEN AND SWOON WORTHY CHARACTERS 

Topic for my next blog entry:

How to Find the Next Good Book to Read:

A Guide to Good Sources of Book Recommendations

[tomorrowedblog]

Friday Releases for March 25

Friday is the busiest day of the week for new releases, so we've decided to collect them all in one place. Friday Releases for March 25 include Everything Everywhere All At Once, Kirby and the Forgotten Land, I Know NIGO!, and more.

Everything Everywhere All At Once

Everything Everywhere All At Once, the new movie from Daniel Kwan and Daniel Scheinert, is out today.

Directed by Daniel Kwan and Daniel Scheinert, collectively known as Daniels, the film is a hilarious and big-hearted sci-fi action adventure about an exhausted Chinese American woman (Michelle Yeoh) who can’t seem to finish her taxes.

Mothering Sunday

Mothering Sunday, the new movie from Eva Husson, is out today.

On a warm spring day in 1924, house maid and foundling Jane Fairchild (Odessa Young) finds herself alone on Mother’s Day. Her employers, Mr. and Mrs. Niven (Colin Firth and Olivia Colman), are out and she has the rare chance to spend quality time with her secret lover. Paul (Josh O’Connor) is the boy from the manor house nearby, Jane’s long-term love despite the fact that he’s engaged to be married to another woman, a childhood friend and daughter of his parents’ friends. But events that neither can foresee will change the course of Jane’s life forever.

The Lost City

The Lost City, the new movie from Aaron Nee and Adam Nee, is out today.

Brilliant, but reclusive author Loretta Sage (Sandra Bullock) has spent her career writing about exotic places in her popular romance-adventure novels featuring handsome cover model Alan (Channing Tatum), who has dedicated his life to embodying the hero character, “Dash.” While on tour promoting her new book with Alan, Loretta is kidnapped by an eccentric billionaire (Daniel Radcliffe) who hopes that she can lead him to the ancient lost city’s treasure from her latest story. Wanting to prove that he can be a hero in real life and not just on the pages of her books, Alan sets off to rescue her. Thrust into an epic jungle adventure, the unlikely pair will need to work together to survive the elements and find the ancient treasure before it’s lost forever.

You Are Not My Mother

You Are Not My Mother, the new movie from Kate Dolan, is out today.

It’s the week before Halloween. Char’s bedridden mother, Angela, has mysteriously gone missing. All that remains is her abandoned car parked in the middle of a field. When Angela returns home to their North Dublin estate the following evening without explanation, it becomes clear to Char and her grandmother, Rita, that something is amiss. She might look and sound the same, but Angela’s behavior has become increasingly erratic and frightening, as if she has been replaced by a malevolent force. As Halloween approaches, a night steeped in ancient Irish myth and legend, Char must unearth the dark secrets of her family in order to uncover the truth behind her mother’s disappearance and save her, even if it means potentially losing her forever.

7 Days

7 Days, the new movie from Roshan Sethi, is out today.

Set-up on a pre-arranged date by their old-fashioned Indian parents, Ravi and Rita seemingly have nothing in common. The situation turns both awkward and enlightening when they find themselves trapped inside together for a week.

Pachinko

Pachinko, the new TV series from Soo Hugh, is out today.

Based on the New York Times bestseller, Pachinko is a sweeping saga that chronicles the hopes and dreams of a Korean immigrant family across four generations.

Bridgerton S2

The second season of Bridgerton, the TV series from Chris Van Dusen, is out today.

Duty, desire and scandal collide when Viscount Anthony Bridgerton decides to marry, only to meet his match in his intended bride’s headstrong big sister.

Tiny Tina’s Wonderlands

Tiny Tina’s Wonderlands, the new game from Gearbox Software and 2K, is out today.

Embark on an epic adventure full of whimsy, wonder, and high-powered weaponry! Bullets, magic, and broadswords collide across this chaotic fantasy world brought to life by the unpredictable Tiny Tina.

Roll your own multiclass hero and loot, shoot, slash, and cast your way through outlandish monsters and loot-filled dungeons on a quest to stop the tyrannical Dragon Lord. Everyone's welcome, so join the party, throw on your adventuring boots, and be Chaotic Great!

Kirby and the Forgotten Land

Kirby and the Forgotten Land, the new game from HAL Laboratory and Nintendo, is out today.

Float off on an all-new adventure as the powerful puffball, Kirby. Explore in 3D stages as you discover a mysterious world with abandoned structures from a past civilization—like a shopping mall?! Copy enemies’ abilities like the new Drill and Ranger and use them to attack, explore your surroundings, and save the kidnapped Waddle Dees from the ferocious Beast Pack alongside the mysterious Elfilin. Hope you’re hungry for an unforgettable adventure!

Ghostwire: Tokyo

Ghostwire: Tokyo, the new game from Tango Gameworks and Bethesda Softworks, is out today.

Tokyo's population has vanished, and deadly supernatural forces prowl the streets. Use an arsenal of elemental abilities to unravel the truth behind the disappearance and save Tokyo.

Pill Baby

Pill Baby, the new game from Kayabros, is out today.

A stylish hack and slash game about an immigrant who takes drugs for her job. Play as Anna, finding a job and moving to a new country. Explore her new life, struggles, loneliness, relationships, language barrier.

I Know NIGO!

I Know NIGO!, the new album from Nigo, is out today.

Melt My Eyez See Your Future

Melt My Eyez See Your Future, the new album from Denzel Curry, is out today.

[checkoutmybookshelf]

Of Fire and Featheringtons: Chapter 4

Well hello friends, and welcome to my second Polin fic! This one builds on The Polin Fic (I Could Have Told You 'Bout the Long Nights on Ao3) so be sure to read that before diving into this one!

Like the other one, this fic is safe for work, but a few warnings do apply! If house fires, house fire injuries, mild gore, and mild blood aren't your thing, then don't be afraid to give this fic a pass. I'll be updating it every week here and on Ao3, so check back for updates.

I hope you enjoy this Polin fic, I had a blast writing it!

Felix had somewhat awkwardly declined the viscount’s three o’clock in the morning offer for him to stay at Bridgerton House with Cousin Penelope and the rest of the family, citing a desire not to put them out further, given the sudden influx of unexpected guests. The viscountess had briefly tried to argue, but Cousin Penelope herself had been Felix’s unexpected savior when she wanted to send her maid home to fetch a few things, and Felix had leaped at the chance to escort her. He had actually needed to keep a sharp eye on the walk, given that even Mayfair had its dangers at that hour of the morning, but on arriving at Cousin Penelope’s house, Felix had sent the maid back with a couple of footmen and simply remained, neatly severing the Gordian knot of society manners. 

Exhausted but too elated to sleep, Felix had simply collapsed back on his bed and relived the glory that had been the Number 5 fire. He had had plenty of time to stockpile fuel and had used more paper packets than ever before. The house had burned fast and hot, the conflagration a stunning tango between smoke and flame. He ran his hands through his own red curls, breathing deeply as the scent of smoke trapped therein was released. This fire had true teeth. It had grown past his wildest dreams to take a second house down–although admittedly the fire brigade being occupied with a fire that had not been his had been a lucky happenstance. 

This fire had judged the nanny and the maids in the house next door unworthy. Felix had remained with the other men once the children and Colin had been rushed off to Bridgerton House, and had seen the charred, twisted husks that had been pulled from the smoldering wreckage. They did not deserve to see the beauty of the flames. 

Cousin Penelope had been untouched by the fire. Felix was deeply grateful that his suspicion about her worthiness had been confirmed. She had the bloodline and the hair to command fire. Felix fancied that Cousin Penelope was the flames in a candelabra. Many, varied, with surprising depth, but ultimately gentler than his own raging inferno. Which made her marriage all the more blasphemous. 

A scowl twisted Felix’s face at that thought. The fire had judged Colin Bridgerton unworthy but had been thwarted in handing down its sentence. The man should have burned, trapped under that beam, and then Cousin Penelope would have been rid of him. Felix had not been able to contrive getting in the viscount and duke’s way when they had barreled through the back door. His heart had practically leaped into his throat and strangled him when he had heard the dowager viscountess’s cry as Colin had collapsed in the street, burning. The damned Bridgertons moved too quickly and as too much of a unit for Colin to die, however. Almost instantly, a heavy blanket had been thrown over him, too many hands to count slapping it, smothering the flames to a horrific, choked death. 

Felix had had to sit up himself at that thought, feeling the breath stop in his own throat. They had dared to murder the fire. They would have to pay, alongside Colin. He wouldn’t be able to get into Bridgerton House; he knew that. The viscount was too conscious of security, too unwilling to hire new people for Felix to slip in as one of many strangers and take the quarter hour to set up his fuel packets and timed wicks. If Number 5 hadn’t been as small as it was, and the dowager viscountess hadn’t had extra help tromping in and out of the place all day to get family dinner prepared, Felix would never have pulled it off. The fire’s revenge would not be quick, but Felix would not serve it cold, either. 

Gentlemen of the ton liked nothing more than to celebrate, mourn, and simply exist in their gentlemen’s clubs. Once Colin had recovered, there was certain to be an evening out at the club for the Bridgerton men. The question was, should Felix target White’s–the club the Bridgertons had been members of since birth and where at least the duke and viscount were most comfortable–or Mondrich’s, the club that Colin had some sort of history with and Benedict preferred? White’s would have all sorts of security, and their regular staff would be able to identify anyone who didn’t belong. Mondrich’s was smaller, so the odds of being spotted as an outsider were greater, but there were always outsiders and new staff because Mondrich himself was still building a reliable, consistent staff and constantly hired temporary people. 

Between Colin’s history with the place and the fact that sportsmanship among the ton generally meant the subject of the celebration chose the club, Mondrich’s was a likelier target. Felix’s expression could not be described as a smile, but he did show teeth. He had time to prepare, while Colin Bridgerton recovered enough to go out carousing. And the next time, Bridgerton and his meddling brothers would not escape the justice of the flames. Cousin Penelope would be free to marry someone who was worthy of both her and the fire. 

Felix finally felt calm enough to roll onto his side and close his eyes. He would show them, all of them, that the Featheringtons ruled fire, and with fire on their side, they would become the preeminent family of the ton. They would take on the weak, crumbling monarchy’s family, and they would rule by fire. But first, Felix would clean his own house. After all, the fire cared not at all for hypocrisy. If it had, it wouldn’t have judged his father unworthy.  

As Penelope unnecessarily straightened skirts appropriate for attending the Queen, she found herself again resentful of the fact that she had been ordered to leave Colin’s side. He had recovered enough to join the family for meals and leisure time in shirtsleeves, but he still tired quickly, and Penelope caught the flashes of pain behind his eyes when he did too much in a day. She was also sure that the sling supporting his broken arm pulled on his burned shoulders, but he had too much energy to simply remain in bed and let things heal more. Penelope had sent her regrets after the first two notes the Queen sent requesting her presence for tea, citing a need to look after Colin during his convalescence. 

The third invitation had come in the form of Lady Danbury’s coach pulling up to Bridgerton House. Penelope could not prove that Kate and Hyacinth had been listening at the door, but she would have been willing to put every penny she had made from Whistledown on that bet. After she and Lady Danbury had been ushered to a private sitting room and the door had been firmly closed, Penelope had thought she had seen a shadow move in the doorjamb. Then, she had been thoroughly distracted by Lady Danbury. 

“Your Mr. Bridgerton seems to be recovering well,” said Lady Danbury. “Up and about, I see, even if somewhat underdressed.”

“Surely, he is not expected to put the pressure of a waistcoat and jacket over half-healed burns in a family home,” Penelope replied, waspish. 

Lady Danbury thumped her walking stick on the floor, frowning. “Straight to business then, I suppose. Do you know what I fail to understand, Penelope? You wanted so desperately to be heard that you wrote a scandal sheet that could have cost you everything. And yet now, when you have a forum and a position of some power, you refuse to speak. You cannot, simply cannot decline an invitation to speak to the Queen when we are in the middle of an ongoing crisis.”

“What I cannot do, Lady Danbury, is leave Colin when he is hurt.”

“That is poppycock, and you know it, girl. Your Mr. Bridgerton has an expansive family who are more than happy to support him through this, and your role is, frankly, too crucial to the Queen for you to be distracted. So what in the heavens is the problem?”

Penelope had already planted herself by the window, looking out, with one hand on a book, before she realized that Lady Danbury knew her well enough to know that she was uncomfortable, and not with the conversation itself. She glanced back, and the knowing look on Lady Danbury’s face made her sigh. 

“You’ve found something.” Lady Danbury’s voice was unexpectedly gentle. “You have found something, and it is going to have consequences that are far beyond anything you could have imagined as Lady Whistledown.”

Penelope’s hands twisted together, and she looked down at the tangle. “Whistledown ruined people, but it never cost anyone their life. I am afraid, Lady Danbury. Because you’re right, I have found something, and it is…I was stabbed over Whistledown. I am under no illusions about whether the best-kept secrets will get out; it is a matter of if, not when. 

“Arson is a choice, Lady Danbury. To be as effective as our present arsonist requires planning, forethought, and knowing something about the people whose homes you set on fire. Somebody knew that my nephews, my husband, and my family would be in Number 5 that night, and they set the house on fire anyway. I never minded the danger to me that came with writing Whistledown, but we almost didn’t get the boys out of the house. Colin will bear burn scars for the rest of his life. How can I put them in danger?”

Lady Danbury’s face was softer than Penelope was used to seeing it as she squeezed Penelope’s hand. “My dear, you do more to keep them safe by finding whoever is doing this quickly than you do by burying yourself in wifely duties. There will always be villains; they will always find ways to hurt people. There is every chance that burning down Number 5 had nothing whatsoever to do with you or with the Bridgertons in general. You know we haven’t found any sort of pattern to explain how houses are chosen. So, you could have lived a perfectly quiet, ordinary life and still be in the position you are now. Worse, perhaps, since a perfectly ordinary Mrs. Penelope Bridgerton would have no recourse, no knowledge, and no way to move forward to ameliorate the situation. 

“But because you are who you are, Penelope, you can do something about this. You have the power to help us identify the perpetrator. Come with me to the palace. Tell her Majesty what you have found, and we can make sure that nobody else is hurt. Surely that is worthwhile?”

Still twisting her fingers together, Penelope looked from Lady Danbury to the window, which offered a view of the back garden of Bridgerton House. Augie and Edmund were kicking a ball back and forth with Gregory and Colin–who was not engaged in anywhere near the amount of running as the other three, but still managed to aim the ball to ensure that the giggling children had to hop to or miss kicking it back. 

As long as the arsonist was at large, there was truly no safe place in Mayfair. There was nothing to stop him from going after Hastings House, or Benedict and Sophie’s home, or even Bridgerton House, really. Deep in her bones, Penelope knew Lady Danbury was right, which was why she had climbed into the older woman’s carriage, had Anna dress her in something suitable for court, and now stood before a closed door, behind which was Queen Charlotte. 

Clutched in Penelope’s hand was a file bearing her map of Mayfair with its damning circle, pages of notes, and the evidence Lady Danbury had given her. Ideally, Penelope would have had more to show for her efforts, but she had yet to speak to the local fire brigade about the Number 5 fire, and the fact that the arsonist had to be one of the ton was not something the queen was going to like hearing. Penelope and Lady Danbury were hoping to talk her down from a house-to-house search to an increased watch presence in Mayfair, perhaps drawing from both the fire brigades and the militias to ensure the maximum number of eyes on the neighborhood. 

They both knew the ton would despise this plan–the illusion of safety of a largely police-free neighborhood was too appealing, even with houses burning to the ground. An increased police presence also ran the risk of encouraging the arsonist to escalate, but the hope was that, in doing so, he would make a mistake and fall into the net spread for him. 

A footman opened the doors to reveal Queen Charlotte seated on a small couch before a small table loaded down with a full tea service and delicacies. Her typical retinue of ladies- and maids-in-waiting in their powdered wigs was notably absent; only her personal steward was in the room, standing at his mistress’s shoulder. Penelope and Lady Danbury curtsied as the footman left the room, pulling the doors softly closed behind him. 

“Ladies,” said Queen Charlotte. “Do sit down and tell me what we know about this wretched arsonist and how I may bring him to justice.” Lady Danbury largely sat quietly, only chiming in with the odd word of support or clarification as Penelope walked the queen through her map and her reasoning behind who the culprit was likely to be. The queen’s face grew increasingly dark as Penelope ticked off the denizens of her street–largely newly married couples, with one or two older families keeping London homes–and why each one was unlikely to be the arsonist. 

The newlyweds were as content as most typical ton couples early in their marriages, so they had little reason to go about setting fires. A few of them lacked the necessary qualities to successfully plan and execute a house fire, while those who could possibly have planned and executed the act would have been wholly incapable of keeping the secret behind their teeth. Of the older ton families with houses in the neighborhood, one had remained in the country in disgrace that season, so the house was closed up. There was a chance that the arsonist was using the house as a base of operations, but that would require complicity from the full staff that maintained the house in the off season. The final family was widely considered to have the worst luck in the ton; the family patriarch was a penny-pinching miser, and all his sons had come to untimely deaths, so at the moment the family consisted of a bevy of widows with twelve grandchildren under the age of ten. Penelope felt it unlikely that the widows or patriarch had the time or energy to spare to commit arson, and none of the children were old enough to do more than upset a candle. Accidentally burning one’s own home to the ground was regrettable, but not arson. 

As Penelope finished her arguments, the queen picked up the map of Mayfair and studied it for a long moment. “And precisely why, Dame Penelope–” there was a subtle but distinctive emphasis on the title, “should I believe that you are not our arsonist?” The queen did not look at Penelope as she asked the question any more than she looked at Lady Danbury when she exclaimed in protest. 

“It seems to me that your house is at the center of this little circle of flames, and by your own reasoning, you possess the intelligence and capacity for secrecy required. Experience shows that you are more than capable of looking the entire ton in the face and making them believe you are lesser. Why, your Mr. Bridgerton could be completely unaware, which positions you behind an influential family that could protect you from such allegations.”

In all reason, Penelope should have been terrified that she was being accused of arson, and having her own logic twisted and used against her. The queen was, after all, the queen, and even with whispers of unrest coming from the court and political actors about precisely how much power she was wielding, given the king’s ill health, for the moment she held the power of life, death, and social favor over everyone. 

And yet Penelope could not stop seeing the fear on Augie and Edmund’s faces. The bright red, weeping blisters on Colin’s shoulders as Dr. Walker cleaned the burns. The–admittedly somewhat fuzzy–memories of the queen’s face as she threatened to have Penelope killed if she did not turn Whistledown into a crown asset. The insinuation that Penelope would have inflicted terror on children, grievous bodily injury on her family, was simply too much. Just at that moment, Penelope did not have words, but they were somewhere in the depths of her mind and her belly, and they were rising. 

“Ma’am, this is preposterous,” Lady Danbury said. 

“Is that so, Lady Danbury? Why else would Dame Penelope recommend against a house-to-house search, except that we might find something?”

“If a search of our home will prove to you that I am hiding nothing, then fine,” snapped Penelope. “Search it. Search it immediately, this very moment, if you will. You will find nothing. But I hope you are prepared for our arsonist to disappear from Mayfair altogether, and we won’t be able to find him until he sets something else on fire. Do you wish to preside over the second great fire of London, your Majesty? Because that is what will happen if we spook this person by setting a cavalcade of liveried royal guards on a Mayfair home.”

“Oh for heaven’s sake,” Charlotte snapped back. “You think that because all the ton sees is my love of grandeur and drama, that I lack knowledge of subtlety? Look in the mirror, girl. The moment you left your home to come here, a small group of plainclothes crown agents searched your house from top to bottom.”

“Your Majesty,” gasped Lady Danbury.

“That Featherington cousin of yours cooperated, and you’re correct. We found nothing. So, very well, we shall increase patrols in Mayfair. But the two of you had best come up with something soon.” The queen sat back with an expression that would have been called a snarl in a woman of less rank. 

“If you trust me so little,” said Penelope, voice shaking in rage, “then what on earth am I doing here?”

The queen pursed her lips, eyes shuttered. For a moment, it seemed that she would refuse to answer. Following a short, sharp exhale, she said, “You are, quite simply, too dangerous not to have on a leash. Fight it, if you will, Dame Penelope, but this is how it shall be.” 

Rising abruptly, Lady Danbury curtsied. “If there’s nothing else, ma’am, we shall take our leave,” she said, one hand clenched around Penelope’s upper arm. Her other hand swept the paperwork into Penelope’s free arm before she dragged a red-faced Penelope from the room. Neither woman spoke again until they were safely ensconced in the carriage and off the palace grounds. 

“It’s not that I cannot ignore the queen, is it Lady Danbury?” Penelope finally asked, voice flat. “It’s that if I don’t prove that I am ‘leashed,’ she will overreact and come after me.” 

“I did not know how little trust in you she had,” admitted Lady Danbury. It sounded as though the admission made her teeth hurt. “I thought she had accepted that you were not personally trying to undermine her.”

“This is not going to work.”  

“No.” 

They lapsed into silence. A headache began to pound behind Penelope’s eyes. It was too much. The Bridgerton family was still largely moving as a clump, as if to reassure themselves that they were all still there. Colin was still walking around with pain behind his eyes from the burns–he seemed far less troubled by the broken arm. She was at a loss as to what to do next to hunt for the arsonist, and she had badly miscalculated her position with Queen Charlotte. So badly, in fact, that she was far too likely to bring royal wrath and retribution down on the heads of the Bridgertons. 

She had failed so badly at so many things this summer. She had failed to make Felix comfortable and welcome among the ton, successfully identify a dangerous man who needed to be locked away, and assess the danger she might put her family in. What hope did she have of setting any of it to rights? 

Felix had never been so grateful for a well-placed large tree and creeping ivy. When the queen’s men had pushed their way into Colin and Penelope’s house, they had turned the place upside down, poked their noses into every crack and crevice, and carelessly flipped through every book in both Colin’s and Penelope’s studies before tossing them to the floor. What they had failed to see was the garden shed. Felix had put on his best nonthreatening smile and followed the agents throughout the house like an inanely babbling puppy. The smile and the babbling had irritated the agents, but they had served to hide Felix’s very real and present initial fear, and its transformation into unbridled glee when he realized he was safe, and finally, incandescent rage at their treatment of Cousin Penelope. 

They weren’t fit to kiss her hem; they had not endured a trial of fire, and if they were to face one, Felix was sure they would be found wanting. Perhaps he ought to arrange such a trial for the palace. Not the building itself, of course; even Felix recognized that there were limits to what his current method could accomplish if he was working alone. But the outbuildings, the stables, or the barracks were reasonable locations. 

Focus, he reminded himself. You have to prepare for Mondrich’s first. The palace ground will still be there once you’ve taken care of family business. His preparations for that made it all the more fortuitous that the royal agents had not noticed the garden shed. He had nearly filled it with completed fire packets, more than he had ever used on a single building before. The club would burn with more intensity and ferocity than even the barn where his father had been judged unworthy. But that was for the future; Cousin Penelope’s husband was still recovering. 

In the meantime, as the maid and housekeeper worked to put the rest of the house in some semblance of order, Felix let himself into Cousin Penelope’s study to carefully smooth out and reshelve her books. In some ways, he was grateful that his cousin shared his love of stories. She had never been less than generous with her books, and they had given him comfort during his first nights in Mayfair. The books soothed his homesickness for his workshop in the country, and he had guessed that Cousin Penelope would be worthy when the first book she offered him from her shelves had contained several myths about fire. It had been a sign that for all he missed his country workshop and the freedom that came with it to worship fire, he was, perhaps, in the right place. 

Smoothing bent pages, he reminded himself to check with the housekeeper; the replacement copy of the Arabian Nights and a book about Jinn and Ifrits he had requested from his contact at Oxford ought to be arriving soon. Felix had felt a pang of guilt at the loss of the books in the Number 5 fire, but he couldn’t have said anything to Cousin Penelope, not then. She wasn’t ready yet. Once she was free of her unworthy husband, then he could approach her, show her the wonder that was fire, and the duty that they, as Featheringtons, had to help it judge those who are worthy. 

Together, they would build something worthy of the flame in England. 

“Felix?” His head whipped around. Cousin Penelope stood in the doorway, wearing a dress fit for court, and looking drained and holding a messily collated file in one hand.  

“Cousin Penelope, I didn’t expect you,” he said. “I thought you’d like it if your books were in some sort of order when you arrived…” he trailed off, uncertain. For all he liked his cousin, for all her worthiness, he simply had few people skills. The tired but genuine smile that crossed Penelope’s face put him at ease.

“That’s kind, thank you,” she said. “I’m so sorry we have left you to shift for yourself lately; we’ve been dreadfully neglectful hosts.” She didn’t put the file down, but she walked into the room and leaned down to collect a couple of books that had landed open, pages splayed, spines up, on the floor. With the same loving care that he himself had given the books, she smoothed out the pages, unfolding crunched leaves and hugging each book briefly before putting them back on the shelf. 

“Please don’t worry about me,” Felix finally said, when it occurred to him that her comment called for some sort of response. “I’m sure things have been dreadfully difficult since the fire.” He had certainly been having difficulty with the fact that Colin had survived despite being unworthy. “I don’t mind having more time at all. I’ve been reading, keeping myself occupied.” 

“I’m glad you’ve been finding things to do,” she replied. “I’m afraid we’ll have to leave you to your own devices for a few days longer. Colin is recovering, but Anthony, Benedict, Simon, and a few of the other gentlemen want to take him out to Mondrich’s before he comes home. I suspect that will be less than a week, but…” she trailed off, looking troubled. Felix sat back on his heels, really taking a moment to look at his cousin. 

He would expect her to be tired after everything that had happened, but this was more than reasonable. Something else he wasn’t aware of had to be bothering her. His stomach fell through the floor as it occurred to him that she could well be with child. He desperately hoped that was not the case; she could not be allowed to carry the child of someone the fire had deemed unworthy. Hoping for a straight answer, he tentatively said, “You have been dealing with so much, cousin. Is there anything you wish to confide in me? Sometimes it helps to discuss matters we struggle with.” Was that casual brush of her hand over her stomach confirmation? It could simply be a habit, or perhaps something to do with her courses, but…he would have to probe a little more. 

“You aren’t still feeling the strain of the fire, are you?” he asked. She shook her head, appearing to refocus. 

“No, I am quite well,” she said. “I simply have much to think about. Not the least of which is what I shall do when Augie and Edmund want to know what happens next to Sinbad. That book was tricky to find.”

He could ease her mind there, at least. “I hope you don’t mind, cousin,” he said, hesitantly. “I took the liberty of writing to my acquaintance at Oxford. He had a second copy of the Arabian Nights and is sending it so the boys can finish their stories. And so that any new Bridgertons can hear them, as well.” Perhaps that had been a bit blunt, but Felix’s insides were crawling with the thought of his cousin carrying a child the fire would have to take. 

“Mind? Not at all, Felix, that was so kind of you. Please give me his direction so I can write to thank him.” 

“On behalf of present and future little Bridgertons?” 

Penelope laughed outright at that. “The present ones, certainly. As far as I am aware, there won’t be a new Bridgerton for a while.” Felix internally sighed in relief. He could continue his plans without worry. 

Once the studies were returned to order and Penelope had checked in with Anna and the housekeeper, she changed into an everyday dress and bid Felix farewell before returning to Bridgerton House. Left to his own devices, Felix crept out to the garden shed to prepare a few more fire packets before the sun set.