A Bluestocking for the Duke: A Steamy Historical Regency Romance Novel (The Hale Sisters Book 1)
A Bluestocking for the Duke: Chapter 5

Colin had tossed and turned in his sleep all night, knotting the sheets around his legs and sweating through his shirt. The night had been one recurring fever dream after the other of their kiss and the hundred ways he wanted to continue that.

     Colin wasn’t his father. He wasn’t irresponsible, nor was his brother. He wasn’t hedonistic and lacking in self-restraint. Colin had played by the rules all his life. Perhaps when he was younger, he had a tryst here and there, but as he became a duke, his priority lay with his family. Not just that, but he had become far too cynical to enjoy a woman’s company.

     He had always thought of himself as proper. He thought of himself as restrained and far too intelligent to do something so stupid. Not only did he act barbaric, but he had done something he couldn’t take back. This whole time, he’d been so quick to accuse her of tempting him on purpose, but after an entire sleepless night, he had come to the conclusion that he was solely to blame for how he acted. She didn’t kiss him like she had any self-assuredness in her actions. She had clearly never been kissed before. As terrible as it was, the feeling of her lips so timid against his had been at the forefront of his mind.

     And perhaps, in the spirit of smoothing over one very improper evening, he could give her exactly what she wanted. If she wanted her family to believe she was in love, Colin would play the part. It was the least he could do.

     Colin stepped out of the carriage, helping his mother and sister out. Adam trailed behind, squinting at the harsh sunlight. It was relatively cold; however, the family’s conservatory would allow them to enjoy the outdoors without the disagreeable temperatures.

     As the Hale’s carriage arrived, Colin met them on the drive and carefully helped each family member out of the coach. Emma was last. When she placed her gloved hand on his, he felt a familiar rush of desire for her but tamped it back down. She seemed rather quiet. Once she stepped out of the carriage, he bowed and offered her a stage kiss on the wrist, never actually touching her.

     “Miss Hale,” he said. “It’s a pleasure to see you this morning,” he smiled.

     “Likewise,” she nodded quietly.

     Before the awkwardness had any chance to fester, Colin turned back to his guests. “Come,” he said, guiding everyone along, his arm held out for Emma to steady herself. Her touch was gentle, just as it had been the evening before. “Our family used to come out here,” he explained. “Every Christmas Eve, actually.”

     “That sounds lovely,” Emma said.

     “It was. I should hope to do it again with my own family.”

     “Used to?” Emma repeated his words.

     He exhaled. “After my father passed away, we stopped,” he said. “My father loved Christmastime. It just felt wrong to celebrate without him this year.”

     She looked at him, a severe look softening into something more compassionate. Usually, a look like that might make the shame bubble up in his chest, but this was different. This made him feel warm, like someone, for even just a moment, wanted to shelter him instead of being sheltered by him. “I…” She paused. “I am sorry to hear that.”

     Adam bounded past then frolicking across the path with the intent of making Emma’s sisters laugh. He leaped into the air, acting like an utter buffoon for his payment of choice: a few cheap laughs. Colin frowned. “Fool.”

     “You cannot be so hard on him, you know.” The compassion was gone. Emma turned her nose up at him.

     “Please,” he said. “Just be glad I am no longer pretending to be pleasant for you.”

     “So romantic,” she said. “To allow all your facades to fall away and live your life as a disagreeable, vinegary man for the woman you love.”

     “Did you say Love?” he asked. “Or loathe? The two sound so similar.”

     “Ha.” She frowned. “Might you try to love me with the engagement announcement approaching so fast? The ball is in only a few days.”

     Colin took a deep breath and stood up tall, looking around at the family to gauge their reactions. “Miss Hale, if you aren’t the most fascinating woman I have ever had the pleasure of meeting,” he said. He was rather loud, attempting to draw some attention from their families. For a moment, she looked rather cross, perhaps interpreting it as an insult instead of the ruse they had discussed. Then after a moment, her eyebrows raised slightly.

     “Your Grace.” She offered him a knowing smile and fluttered her eyelashes. It was almost too obvious as if she was overdoing it for the sake of the stage. She giggled. “You flatter me.”

     “And you make it easy,” he said. He looked over at Harriet, watching them both with wide eyes. Her fists held up the hem of her skirt from collecting any dirt as she sidestepped a clump of turf on the stone path. “Would your sister not make the perfect duchess?”

     Lucy scoffed, walking over the clod with reckless abandon, not caring about the state of her dress. “What makes a perfect duchess anyway? Doing what exactly? Duchessing?”

     Harriet gasped. “Stop it, you goose!” she whispered, loud enough for Colin to hear it. He placed his palm under his nose and laughed lightly.

     “A perfect duchess, my dear, is a woman who is generous, intelligent, compassionate, and equally steadfast in her virtues. Do you not think that is exactly the kind of woman a duke would wish to find?”

     Lucy’s mouth wrinkled into a funny squiggle as if she had a mouthful of flies but was too polite to let them go. “That’s just so awfully cloying. Really upsets my stomach,” she said.

     “No, no, Your Grace, not cloying. Just perfect! In fact, I always imagined my sister to be a duchess one day,” Harriet explained, her eyes sparkling. “And she very well could be, hm?”

     “I have every hope.”

     Colin jumped. Looking down, he noticed Emma’s fingers pressing hard into his arm. When he looked her in the eyes, she smiled at him. It wasn’t layered and delusive like her gestures so often were. Instead, she appeared grateful.

     The footman opened the ornate glass door of the conservatory, and the families entered. The hothouse was warm and full of slightly humid air. The entrance was surrounded by a lush trellis that supported a climbing strawberry plant. The little red fruits hung off like bright ornaments. Climbing roses in pinks and reds trailed up towards the glass ceilings and down the walls. In the center of the room were two beautiful tan couches and a few dusty pink armchairs. At the far end of the room was a fountain. Above it, two grand staircases connected towards a second-story platform covered with plants in every shade of green.

     Emma ducked to avoid getting smacked across the cheek with a particularly wild leaf. Colin leaned down toward her ear. “You’ll have to be careful. Further in, we have those giant pitcher plants. They’re quite hungry.”

     Emma rolled her eyes. “You have a sense of humor today, hm?”

     “That depends,” he said. “Do you think me to be amusing?”

     She looked up at him, her sharp gaze cutting into him, attempting to read him. He looked away from her. Those were the looks that had gotten him into trouble. Maybe it was because no one had ever cared enough to try to see past his walls. Vulnerability was exactly what drove a man like him to his knees. He knew that now because the feeling of being divided by her every look had made him into someone he was not.

     The Duke of Radford was calm, collected, and cynical. He was not the man she made him out to be. He was not vulnerable. He was not hollow for her touch or for the taste of her. And he certainly was not a man who wasted an entire night’s worth of sleep considering the feelings of someone who had just stepped into his life, someone he couldn’t guarantee would stay. Why would she stay after the things he had said about her behind closed doors or how he looked at her like he had never had a proper meal in his entire life? Women like her shouldn’t stay. Women like her deserved better.

     “Well!” Adam clapped his hands. “What are we waiting for?”

     Their mother sighed. “We are simply enjoying the conservatory. There needn’t be anything more to do!” She was part of the reason the family hadn’t celebrated Christmas like they did when their father was still alive. Her idea of a nice evening was relaxing by the fire, while their father fueled the family’s competitive spirit.

     “Nonsense, nonsense.” Adam gestured towards the sitting area. “My friend—he’s just come back from the Americas—he’s introduced quite the fun parlor game.”

     Harriet raised her arms in the air. “I love parlor games!”

     “See?” He turned towards his mother. “We’ve exhausted talk about the horses. Everyone wants to play a game.”

     “It could be fun,” Lucy muttered, her voice strung out and disinterested. “What is it?”

     “Twenty questions,” Adam announced. “Here’s the game. I’ll think of a thing, anything, and the group can ask twenty yes or no questions. A bit like charades, however, you don’t have to be quite as intelligent as my brother to play.”

     Harriet fell into the couch, getting comfortable. She had a big smile plastered across her face. “Is it an animal?”

     “No? I had not thought of anything yet…” Adam scratched his head, his wavy black hair getting a little messy. The tip of his rounded nose was still rosy from the chill outside.

     Harriet tilted her head, lips pursing and looking off at the ground like he had just broken her heart.

     “It is an animal,” he said.

     “Is it brown?”

     “It can be,” Adam said. “Remember, only eighteen questions left, or you lose. Ask carefully.”

     Lucy groaned. “At least make it a challenge. Is it a horse?”

     Adam’s eyes widened. He crossed his arms. “Who wants to…” he swallowed his pride. “Wants to go next?”

     “I’ll go,” Emma said, raising her hand lightly. She sat down on the couch. Colin took the armchair beside her. He was surprised she’d offered to go. She seemed sort of quiet tonight. It was no wonder why. The entire day before had been a torrent of emotion.

     “Is it an animal?” the baron asked, lowering his glasses on his nose. He sat beside his wife. She was perched on the edge of her seat, looking stiff and polite, while he had already made himself at home on the cushion.

     “Animal? What is the distinction between an animal and a creature of god?”

     “Yes or no ques—”

     “Brother,” Colin stopped him with a raised palm. “Allow Miss Hale to continue.” He looked at Emma, rolling her words across his cheek. “This is a person?”

     “Yes,” she nodded definitively.

     “A man?” Harriet asked.

     “In spirit, yes; in nature, no.”

     “This is turning into charades,” Adam shook his head. “This is not the game. I hate charades.”

     Colin glared at his brother before turning back to Emma. “Interesting. And have you met her?”

     “No.”

     “Is she any longer of this earth?” the baroness asked.

     “No,” Emma said.

     Lucy smiled proudly. “Easy. Joan of Arc.”

     “No,” Emma shook her head. “Although you must consider God a part of the narrative.”

     “You said she had the spirit of a man. Was she strong?” Colin asked

     “Define strength,” Emma shot back.

     The Duke smiled. He had meant physically, but the fact that she felt inclined to remind him that strength comes in many forms and fashions seemed fitting. “Physically.”

     “By some accounts, but her strength was her intelligence.”

     Harriet bit at the tip of her thumb in concentration. “What?

     “I think you’ve made this a bit too difficult,” Adam said. “This is not the spirit of the game.”

     Colin leaned back in his chair. “Delilah?”

     Emma looked out of the corner of her eyes. “Yes, actually.”

     Colin dipped his head in understanding. Strange of her to bring that up when that was the very conversation that led them to press their lips together last night in the study. But that was the point, wasn’t it?

     “De—Delilah? Delilah who?” Adam asked.

     “It might not hurt to read a book,” Colin muttered.

     “Oh, you never said these games were biblical,” the Dowager said, suddenly very interested.

     “I have been thinking,” Emma said. “As I begin to think about marriage, I have taken the Lord’s word into consideration, as his foundation for a blessed marriage is the only proper foundation.” She gave Colin a pointed glance.

     “Well,” the Dowager pressed a hand to her cheek. “I would not take advice from Delilah.”

     “Agreed,” Colin stated.

     “I was thinking more about Samson. What do you suppose his weakness was? A woman? Or his hair?”

     “Oh, the woman.” The Dowager laughed like it was common sense. “This is why, as a mother, it is important to teach your sons how to choose a wife of great value.”

     “Hm.” Emma nodded, but it was clear he wasn’t sold on the idea.

     “Actually.” The baron shifted in his chair, making himself comfortable again. “I would argue that Samson’s weakness was that he believed his strength was solely his own.”

     “How perceptive, father,” Emma said. “Mayhap, if we want to truly be invincible, then we must share our vulnerabilities in the face of the Lord.”

     “Oh!” The Dowager sat up a bit straighter. “That is an excellent takeaway.”

     Colin was, in all honesty, a little annoyed, but he refused to show it. Emma had simply wanted to prove a point, even though they had just agreed to pretend to be hopelessly in love. Was she trying to hit a nerve, or was her plan to simply voice the thoughts she wasn’t able to the night before?

     “Oh!” Adam swung his palm up. “Delilah. She was the…she cut his hair off. It is only right for the fairer sex to take matters into their own hands if a gentleman were to allow his hair to get that unkempt.”

     Harriet laughed into her palm. “His Grace seems to be a very well-groomed man. I hardly think it would be an issue.”

     “Hair aside,” Colin began, looking briefly at Emma. It wasn’t lost on him that her chin was pointed upwards defiantly. “I believe that my apologies are in order. Miss Hale, I apologize to you for the outcome of yesterday.”

     She turned to look at him, cheeks slightly reddening because she realized that he was referring to their argument in the garden, not the fire they started in the office. For Colin, however, he meant to refer to both.

     “The charms of a beautiful woman can often lead to nerves on behalf of a man. You behaved above reproach, and I allowed my own faults and fears to get in the way. Perhaps you will find it in your heart to forgive me. I wish to show you the sort of man I am through my actions. May I?”

     Emma’s eyes seemed glassy. She looked down at her hands folded in her lap and tucked a piece of hair behind her ear. “Thank you, Your Grace,” she nodded. “You are one of the few men with true integrity.” But as soon as she’d said it, he felt a strange pang in his chest. He had meant what he said, but it was hard for him to believe that she was convinced that he had any integrity.

     A noble man wouldn’t be looking at her thinking the things he was thinking. A noble man wouldn’t wish that everyone else was gone, and it was just the two of them. He wouldn’t think of having her laid out on the couch, running her fingernails across his back and panting in his ear. Part of him had hoped that kissing her once would have quelled his desires. That wasn’t the case. He wanted her now more than ever.

     “I apologize too. I gave into an already tense situation,” Emma said. Everyone surely thought she was speaking about raising her voice back at him. In her mind, she had done a lot to encourage the trouble between them. She could have pushed him away the moment he got too close. But she had wanted him. And even when he kissed her, it still didn’t feel like she had gotten as close as she needed.

     He opened his mouth but stopped himself. He stood up. “May I take you for a tour? I think we can bear to miss another round of the games.”

     Emma smiled and offered her hand to the Duke. He clasped it and helped her up, then gingerly placed it in the crook of his other elbow. They walked away from the group. They were within sight but out of earshot.

     “Thank you,” she said.

     “For…?”

     “For doing what I asked of you last night.” Her voice was broken up with emotion. It wasn’t entirely clear to her what she was feeling, but it was enough to make her feel uncertain and wobbly on her feet. She felt an urge to fall against the Duke, but she contained herself, staying an appropriate stride apart.

     “We came to an agreement, and I intend to keep my end of it,” he said.

     Emma bit her cheek. If she remembered correctly, her end of the deal involved staying away from him in private situations. Although keeping that promise was not entirely what she wanted to do, the ask was entirely reasonable. They had already proven themselves to be incapable of controlling their bodies.

     “The conservatory is just beautiful,” she said. “I imagine it looks magical in the evening with all the candles aglow.”

     “It does,” he sighed, looking around. “There is a lot of work to be done.”

     Emma tilted her head and looked around. It seemed to look perfect already. “Like what?”

     The Duke sighed. “Well, my father had dreams. He wanted to expand it. He…” He laughed softly. “He wanted more gardens outside and rare plants from the East Indies. His expectations were always too lofty.”

     “But you wish to satisfy some of them?”

     He paused, his arm tensing slightly under her fingers. “Yes,” he said. “I do.”

     There was a pause as they came up to the fountain. It was tall with ornate filagree designs carved into the stone. Water trickled up and over. It was mesmerizing. Emma sat on the edge of the fountain, smoothing her powder blue dress out until the satiny fabric shimmered in the light. “May I ask you something?”

     His jaw twitched. “You may try,” he responded.

     “It is hardly proper.”

     “Then do not ask,” he said. “You know last night was an isolated incident. There is no further discussion required.”

     “No,” she held up her palms in protest. “No, no, not that sort of improper.”

     The Duke stilled, looking a little red in the cheeks for having even brought it up. She wondered if he was thinking about it. Had he put as much thought into it? Did he also imagine a next time? “Then?”

     Emma bit her lip lightly, feeling bad to ask but unable to help her curiosity back. “Were the rumors of your father true?”

     The Duke breathed in sharply before crossing his arms. “If you have heard that he was absolute rubbish at the gaming tables, then I am afraid that is true.”

     Emma nodded. Her parents had always been responsible and present for her. It was strange that part of her felt guilty for having such good luck. A child required a warm, loving, and sheltering home life. Perhaps now, more than ever, the Duke would know this. She hadn’t given much thought to him as a parent, but it was maybe intelligent to consider such things. “But you do not resent him?”

     “It is complicated.” He sat beside her. Emma shifted in her seat at him being so close that she could feel the welcoming heat coming off his body. She wanted to sink into him. She erased to the side, and he followed suit, inching a bit further away from her so neither of them would have to be so keenly aware of how desperate they were to close the distance. “I struggle to determine whether gambling is a selfish habit or a disease. He loved us to the best of his capabilities, and I, too, am bound to him by the best of mine.”

     “Being flexible and compassionate is important for a parent. Do you wish to have children?”

     He shook his head. “I haven’t put a tremendous amount of thought into it yet, but I have a dukedom to consider. I hate to use the word again, but this is my duty to my immediate family and bloodline.”

     Emma took a deep breath. “At first, you struck me as being indifferent about family, but you are just—”

     “Miss Hale,” he stopped her. “We ought to not get any further into this realm.” He stood up, smoothing his tailored waistcoat before helping Emma to her feet.

     “I did not mean to offend. I am simply curious.” As she held onto the crook of his elbow, she looked up at him, admiring his side profile. He hadn’t let her in much, but what he did tell her was a side she hadn’t expected from him. It made him seem more human. He was a slave to the duties his family expected of him, just as she was.

     They made their way back to the group. Adam looked up at Emma and the Duke. “And how was the honeymoon?”

     “My goodness!” The Dowager swatted his arm. “So cheeky this one! No wonder he’s had such a hard time securing a wife.”

     “For your edification, brother, we have been enjoying each other’s company immensely,” the Duke stated. It wasn’t lost on Emma that he purposefully made eye contact with a thrilled Harriet. “Actually, I would like a moment of everyone’s time. I spoke to Lord Wilkes this morning,” Colin said, gesturing to the baron.

The baron offered a gentle hand as if to give Colin his permission.

Colin smiled, dropping to one knee. “Miss Emma Hale,” he smiled. “Will you marry me?”

Lucy made a show of gagging at Rose, who laughed into her palm. Emma watched them for a moment. Funny, when after all, she felt the same way. This wasn’t what she wanted for herself. Her gaze shifted to an overjoyed Harriet. But it was what she wanted for Harriet.

“Yes, Your Grace. I would be honored.”

Colin smiled, yet in his eyes was a certain coldness. He took her wrist and offered it a kiss. He stood up beside her. “Here is to a long, happy union. Love everlasting.”

Everyone cheered. “And you, Miss Hale, have hardly said a thing,” Adam said.

     Emma smiled, clutching onto the Duke just a little tighter. “Would you, too, not be tongue-tied if you were this blissful? It is almost too good to be true.”

     The Duke looked at her, and she at him. They hardly knew each other. It was too good to be true.

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