A Bluestocking for the Duke: A Steamy Historical Regency Romance Novel (The Hale Sisters Book 1)
A Bluestocking for the Duke: Chapter 13

In the following week, Colin read perhaps ten different books, and yet none of them got his mind off the wedding night. Before that, he had heard Emma describing to her sister how disgusting pretending to be in love with him had made her feel. Colin began to recover from that blow to his ego after the wedding.

He hadn’t wanted to push the consummation if she felt such a way, especially when they were on shaky ground. If she didn’t want him, then the thought of him forcing himself onto her made him feel sick to his stomach. He respected her too much to force anything. So he had booked two separate rooms, hoping to make Emma feel comfortable.

     When she had come to him herself, seeming eager to enjoy all of the ways he could make her feel, he was relieved. But then, she admitted that it was merely her duty. It was as if she had come there just to rub salt in a healing wound. Now, the infection was worse than ever. They had been living on opposite sides of every room and every dinner table at the Terrel Estate. They rarely spoke. Emma, for much of the week, had disappeared on her own, either shut away in her chambers or wandering the estate grounds, filling the rest of her sketchbook with completed drawings while the one of him remained unfinished.

     Isolation hurt, but when the person you loved had frozen over in every possible way, the feeling was so much crueler. He wanted her back. He wanted to hear the goofy snort she made whenever she laughed or feel the way her fingers shook when she touched him.

     When Colin had thought of his honeymoon period with Emma, he’d pictured a week of pure happiness, shut away from the world and their responsibilities. He’d imagined cuddling on the couch and drinking Madeira wine until the gloaming folded over into the dead of night. He had imagined laughing and talking by the fireplace until his head buzzed and his cheeks hurt. Maybe they would go horseback riding across the grounds and have useless yet heated debates over dinner right before they retired up to the bedchamber together for the third time that day.

     But Emma and Colin’s honeymoon wasn’t like that. The house felt cold, empty, and even more isolated than before she arrived.

     After a week, Abigail, Adam, and Rose returned home, exhausted and excited to see the newlyweds.

     Adam sighed, falling into the dining room. His eyes rolled back in bliss. “No offense, Your Grace, but the dining room chairs at Wilkes manor are unwelcoming to one’s posterior.”

     “Adam!” Abigail shouted. “How rude!”

     He shrugged, dunking his bread into his bowl of seafood chowder. “What? She’s family now.” He looked at Emma. “Does it feel that way yet?”

     Emma stared down at her soup, unable to disguise her discontentment. “Mhm.” She nodded quietly. “It very much does.”

     “Forgive the Duchess,” Colin said. “We’ve been touring the grounds all day. She is tired.”

     She smiled. “Yes, I have a terrible migraine. Thank you, dear, for speaking on my behalf.”

     “Nothing…” Adam poured a fresh glass of amber liquid. “A little brandy cannot mend.”

     Emma smiled. “Thank you.” She took the glass and sipped it, wetting her soft, full lips.

     Rose turned slightly in her seat to look at Emma beside her. “Lucy and I had a wonderful time,” she smiled. “I am very glad to have gotten to spend some time with her.”

     “She is lovely,” Emma said. “Cynical, one might say, but realistic.”

     “For most,” Colin chimed in.

     “Yes.” Emma offered him a stiff smile. “Most. I, however, have been the subject of the Duke’s constant attentions.”

     “So much so that anyone would suspect us to be exhausted of each other.” Colin faked a laugh. At first, it sounded genuine, but after long it wavered into something that sounded as uncomfortable as he felt.

     Adam leaned into his ear. “Brother, you’re frightening me.”

     “I do not think I could ever tire of you,” she said. “Dear.”

     Abigail laughed nervously. “Perhaps we might turn in early? I feel perhaps the migraine is…contagious.” Her lip drew back.

     “Great idea. Tomorrow is another early day,” Colin said, standing up at once.

     “Ugh.” Emma put a palm to her forehead. “Harriet’s engagement announcement.” She muttered as if it had slipped her mind. Tomorrow they would begin traveling to London once again. Emma’s family had offered to host them, which was quite generous considering they were planning an extravagant engagement ball for Harriet.

     Everyone left the dining room to retire to their chambers, while Colin stayed behind, still seated in the dining room.

     Tick, tick, tick.

     Colin looked down to see Lemon Drop trotting towards him, his nails clicking against the marble floor. Colin tapped the chair beside him and invited the dog up. Lemon Drop gingerly jumped up, sitting politely on the empty chair.

     “Lemon,” Colin muttered, leaning on his thighs. “What am I doing wrong?”

     Lemon Drop blinked.

     “It feels impossible to talk to her. I—I…” he trailed off, sighing.

     Lemon Drop blinked once more.

     “You are a good listener.”

     The dog tilted his head.

     “Yes, I suppose if I could get her to talk, then I could be a good listener as well.” Colin licked the bottom of his lip in thought. “But how can I make someone who doesn’t wish to speak, speak?”

     Lemon Drop yawned, showing off his pearlescent white teeth while his pink tongue curled in the most uncouth way.

     “Oh, blast it. You’re right,” he whispered. “You’re always right.”

     Some might have called Colin strange for carrying on an entire conversation with a dog, but Lemon Drop happened to be the smartest friend he had, mostly because Adam, although boasting a much larger brain, had only been known to use five percent of it on a good day.

     Lemon Drop never knew the answers, but he did know how to guide Colin there on his own, fumbling in the dark until he’d made sense of the troubles that plagued him. After a conversation with the small greyhound, it had occurred to Colin that if he really wanted to fix his issues with Emma, he would have to confront something he hated. Intimacy.

     He had never been one to ask for help because, for so much of his life, Colin was the one that gave help. Everyone needed him, but he was too proud to ask anyone for help. But that wasn’t what friendship was about, nor was that what love was about. It had occurred to Colin, only after he’d lit his entire world on fire and watched it smolder, that he would never get any closer to the ones he loved if he refused to be vulnerable before them.

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