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

Yet another dinner. Emma was growing tired of the double conversations she and Colin would have at the table, one between them and an entirely different one for everyone else to hear. This evening though, he seemed different. Emma’s chest ached. Maybe he hadn’t stopped regretting what had transpired between them the evening before.

Emma hated that he would think that. It felt crushing to experience something so intense only to learn that all of the emotion and feeling were firmly planted in her head and not in reality. She wished she could ask him what he had disliked about it, but he hadn’t seemed very keen on talking. Ever since he returned to the Manor from his business, he was cold, aloof, and simply going through the motions.

     As soon as the conversation had begun amongst the family, Emma turned to the Duke. “I am hoping we can talk after dinner?” Emma asked.

     Colin couldn’t even fake a smile. “For what purpose?”

     “To…to have a conversation?”

     His jaw twitched. “What might you have to tell me, Miss Hale, that I do not already know?”

     She turned back to the table, eyes vacantly staring at the roast duck on her plate. “Um.” She paused, throat bobbing. “You are able to read minds now?”

     “Something along those lines,” he said. “I assure you. I know what you are thinking.”

     A glass clinked. Margaret giggled, looking at her husband. “We have an announcement,” she said. “We wanted to wait until everyone was here.”

     Emma sat up straighter. She, along with everyone, waited with bated breath. Her father was already on the edge of his chair as if he was getting ready to stand up.

       “We are preparing to welcome our first child.” Margaret cheered, raising her glass in the air. The viscount raised his.

     The baron stood up. He hurried around the table and swept Margaret and Lord Barton into a hug. “Congratulations,” he cooed, focusing most of his affection on his daughter.

     “An heir?” the baroness asked.

     “I think it’s going to be a girl,” Lucy said assuredly.

     “And why is that?” Harriet crossed her arms.

     “Because I simply can sense it.”

     “What do you know?” Harriet scoffed. “Seriously, you have never so much as held an infant in your entire life, nor should you be trusted to!”

     “And you?” Lucy got into her sister’s face. “What do you know?”

     “I do not claim any clairvoyance!” Harriet crossed her arms. “But it could not possibly be a girl. Margaret ate four scones at breakfast. The baby is obviously ravenous. It must be a boy.”

     “Harriet!” Margaret narrowed her eyes. “I am eating for two. I will enjoy as many scones as I please.”

     “Calm, calm,” the baron hushed. “This is a congratulatory occasion. Not another opportunity to bicker like children,” he said, tapping Lucy and Harriet each on the head. The girls sulked as the baron took his seat.

     Emma leaned beside her and wrapped her older sister in a hug. “I cannot believe you waited until now to tell me.”

     Margaret beamed.

     “I offer my congratulations to the viscount and viscountess,” Colin smiled.

     “And in a year or two we may see the arrival of a nephew, hm?” The viscount said.

     Colin sipped at his wine. “That would be a dream come true,” he said. “Wouldn’t it be?”

     “A dream,” Emma repeated. She had always wanted to be a mother, yet she hadn’t quite pictured it like this. Usually, in her imaginings, there was a silhouette of her husband. She had never pictured her perfect husband. Instead, her fantasies usually focused on her actions. She wanted her children to have a positive father figure, yet she never did know what that looked like. Maybe if Colin seemed less cold, she might have imagined what he might look like holding her baby and holding out his arms while he taught the child to stumble across the floor and into his embrace.

The baron clapped his hands together. “And you, Your Grace? How was your business?”

Colin waved a hand. “We are celebrating The viscount and viscountess’ news. I would hate to make any of the conversation about me.”

“No, we insist!” the viscount cheered.

Colin cleared his throat, obviously uncomfortable. “It went better than I could have hoped. I have already put my investment in. It should not be long before I see a return.”

“Oh my gosh,” the baron smiled. “Such fantastic news tonight from all corners!”

After a desert of wine-poached pears, Emma found herself even more nervous about Colin’s apathy. “You look handsome this evening, Your Grace.” She smiled.

     He glanced at her. “And you, although it is scarcely a secret.”

     Margaret leaned over into her sister’s ear. “Allow me to help.” She stood up from the table. “Lucy, dear, it’s been forever since I’ve heard you play the pianoforte,” she said.

     Lucy sighed. “Still as good as ever.”

     “Good. I know the baby enjoys music.” She stood up, ushering everyone to the drawing room while gesturing to Emma and Colin to stay behind.

     “Oh, I love some music!” The baron twirled light on his feet after a few glasses of madeira wine. Usually so stoic, but with good news and enough alcohol, he was prepared to get the party started.

     Emma looked at Colin. Now that they were engaged, they could afford a little more privacy together. Colin stood up. “Your sister is helping you now, yes?”

     Emma’s eyebrows knotted at the hostility. “I told her the truth.”

     “Which part, exactly?” he asked, leaning down to her ear while she stayed seated in the chair. “The part where we argued? I kissed you? We made a wager? Where we convinced the ton that we were in love? Or did you tell her about last night when we were intimate?”

     Emma scrambled out of her seat and looked back and forth to make sure they were alone. Through the hallway, the sound of piano music crept into the room, too upbeat for the conversation Emma had found herself in. “What has gotten into you? Did your business go poorly?”

“It was perfect. I returned in a fantastic mood.”

“Then what?”

He sighed. “Do you remember what I said at our engagement ball?” He shook his head. “Everyone is watching all the time. Lie to your family, but do not lie to me.”

She opened her mouth to respond, but there was nothing to say when she hadn’t made sense of his words yet.

“I am your biggest mistake,” he said.

“I am not the one who regrets last night.”

     “No,” Colin shook his head. “You regret everything. I know.” He turned, walking towards the threshold, boots thudding against the wooden floor.

     “Colin!” she whispered softly.

     He looked back at her. “Miss Hale, I am tired. Allow me to rest before I return to my estate tomorrow. We will have the rest of our lives to disagree.”

     Emma’s mouth formed words, but none of them ever made a sound. She watched him walk away, stopping in the drawing room to politely excuse himself. Emma’s eyes burned with frustration. She had never expected her confession to go this badly, especially when she hadn’t said anything in the first place.

          Emma paced back and forth. It was another sunny day, but there was still an unwelcoming nip to the air. Her shivers felt well-deserved. Whatever happened with Colin must have been due to something she did or said. She hadn’t meant to cross a line. Maybe their rendezvous in the library was enough to shake him back into reality.

     She stood in front of the fountain and wrapped her arms around herself. She watched the water jump and splash. It reminded her of the day she spent with Colin at the conservatory. It felt like things had really begun anew then. All the arguments and the awkwardness of a first kiss had fluttered away. They felt like two strangers, giving each other a proper chance. Talking to him had suddenly felt easy, even if she had initially not known what to think.

But that was in the past. Her father wouldn’t be happy, but perhaps the best thing she could do was end her engagement. Maybe Harriet could forgive her. She wouldn’t wish Emma to marry a man that had already grown tired of her. The sound of it alone was bleak.

     Emma heard laughter from the sidewalk. Harriet walked beside Lord Northwick, her hand tucked into the crook of his arm. He seemed to be telling her an amusing story from the way she giggled beside him. Behind them, a member of the Hale Family’s staff traveled as a chaperone. Once they reached the estate, Lord Northwick escorted Harriet up the drive to meet with Emma. He bowed, and Emma responded with a polite curtsy.

     “My lord.” Emma smiled. “I trust you enjoyed your promenade.”

     “More than I can accurately describe Miss Hale.” He flashed a goofy smile at Harriet, and she erupted into a fit of laughter.

     “How charming.”

     “I suppose I ought to be returning home, then, hm?” he asked Harriet.

     She frowned. “I am sure you could stay for dinner.”

     “No, no. Your older sister is already visiting. I would hate to make myself an imposition when tomorrow is such an important day.” He bowed, kissing Harriet lightly on the wrist. He waved at the two sisters before excitedly skipping down the driveway.

     Emma turned to Harriet and smiled. “Tomorrow is an important day?” she asked. “Why is that?”

     Emma gasped as Harriet wrapped her arms around her sister, pushing her back with force. After she adjusted to the sudden embrace, Emma wrapped her arms around Harriet and scrunched her beautiful brown hair.

     “He plans to ask father for my hand in marriage,” Harriet whispered, her face buried into her sister’s shoulder.

     Emma couldn’t stop her heart from dropping like dead weight. Her lie had come too far. If she dissolved her engagement now, she wasn’t sure what her father would make of Lord Northwick’s plan to propose.

     Emma smiled through her sorrow. She pressed a soft kiss to her sister’s cheek. “This is the news we’ve been waiting for,” she said.

     “I know!” Harriet shouted, running up towards the house and spinning. Her lilac-colored dress fluttered around her. “I have to go tell Lucy if just to vex her!”

Emma watched her sister fly like a sparrow through the front door, humming. She was so happy. That was what Emma wanted, true, but at what expense? It hardly seemed fair that Emma had to sacrifice everything that she held dear just to make her sister happy. Maybe, in another life, both of them stood to be incredibly happy. But that wasn’t looking to be true about this one.

     The tang was bittersweet. It felt awful to force Colin to marry her now that he no longer required her dowry. He was many things, but he wasn’t one to ruin her reputation by breaking off their engagement. Emma swiped a tear from the corner of her eye. It seemed wrong for both of them. Anyone else, and maybe Emma could have had an uneventful life but being married to Colin felt like holding a live snake that could bite her without warning. They could be in perfect harmony, but the good times never seemed to last long enough to make the bad ones any less painful.

But really, who was to say who the snake was? They had both snapped at and bit the other. Emma had sunken her teeth in and grabbed hold, and he had never relented, trying to shake her loose since they’d met.

He had said it so clearly that very first day: A marriage is not a power struggle, Miss Hale.

She hasn’t listened. And only now had she realized that she should have.

     Colin signed the letter, folded it over, and tucked it neatly in an envelope.

     “Brother, you’ve been working nonstop since you arrived home,” Rose said. She stood at the door of his study, one arm holding the frame and the other cradling a miserable Lemon Drop. The sides of the dog’s mouth were pulled back in a grimace, and his neck twitched, presumably due to that yellow collar she always forced him to wear.

     Colin frowned. “Yes, well, what do you expect of me? My wedding is in two weeks, and I am working hard on a new business venture.”

     She didn’t say anything, she merely looked disappointed.

     “What?” Colin sighed. “Please don’t look so dejected. You know how that makes me feel, Rose.”

Lemon Drop sighed heavily.

     “I just…” She paused. “I thought you would be happier since you’re preparing for your wedding.”

     “I am happy,” he clarified. “Just so impatient that I’m trying to keep myself busy.”

     There was a snort. Adam poked his head into the doorway from behind Rose. Colin exhaled roughly, slapping his letter down with a thud.

 “Good answer. Good…good answer,” Adam said. “That was good. Believable.”

     “Can I get some quiet?” Colin asked. “I am finally getting around to paying off some of these overdue debts.”

     “Sorry brother, it’s just we wanted to play Pall-Mall,” Rose said. “And Lemon doesn’t really believe in playing by the rules.”

     “So what if he wins?” Colin muttered. “He’s a dog. You’re fortunate that he even plays.” It was admittedly very adorable. Lemon Drop had taken to playing Pall-Mall by his own understanding, which typically involved him pushing the ball continuously until it went through the gate.

     The Italian greyhound yawned in Rose’s face and her features seized. “His breath!”

Colin could have sworn that Lemon Drop smiled, but then again, maybe Lemon’s slightly cruel intentions were just something he wanted to believe in. Colin might have picked on anyone that fit him in a collar like that.

     “Adam is likely not much better,” Colin muttered.

     “One game,” Rose pleaded. “Just to get your mind off of bills.

     Colin begrudgingly agreed and followed them outside. The day was overcast, the sky as dark and burdened as his thoughts. This time of year, the sunshine didn’t last very long, and it was better off that way. Sometimes when it was so chilly and dead outside, it merely felt disingenuous.

Rose’s turn was first. She took a moment to get herself situated in front of the boxwood ball and placed her mallet just so.

     “How are your feelings about Miss Hale now that you’ve spent the week together?” Adam asked. “Still friends?”

     Colin frowned. “We are fine.”

     “Something happened,” Adam whispered as if to taunt him. “Something happened while you were there, didn’t it?”

     Many things happened. One tense dinner led to a release in the library followed by a conversation that Colin wasn’t meant to overhear. The last dinner was perhaps the most strained. The following morning he made sure to leave so early that he didn’t have to see Emma. The words she’d said to her sister hurt him. It killed him that the show they put on made him more enamored with her while it only served to make her see him as a liar and a cheat.

     Even if he did explain to her that he loved her, she likely wouldn’t believe him. How could she, after all they’d lied about?

     “We are fine,” Colin repeated as he watched Rose take her shot. It landed only about a foot away from the arch. Adam clapped and walked up to the ball, leery-eyed. “Very nice, Rosie, but not enough to challenge me. I have got something to prove with our Colin lying through his teeth.” He held the mallet with unwarranted confidence—chest puffed out, chin up.

Colin crossed his arms. “We are fine!”

     “I do not believe it!” Adam shouted, hitting the ball hard with the mallet. It landed about four yards past the arch. He’d put too much force behind it like the brute he was.

     “Simple, just buy her flowers,” Rose smiled. “How can she be mad with sunny daffodils staring her right in the face?”

     “No, no. He has already done that,” Adam said. “Besides, Miss Hale is far too intelligent to allow a bouquet to smooth over a grudge, is that right?”

     Colin narrowed his brow. “We are fine,” he repeated yet again.

     Adam grimaced and placed the boxwood ball on the ground. “Lemon Drop, come now,” he said. The greyhound trotted up, confidently placing his muzzle against the ball and pushing it gently across the ground. “Good God, that dog is talented.” Adam shook his head. “You suppose he has some advice for you?”

     “I do not need advice.”

     Rose jumped, cheering as Lemon Drop passed the ball through the arch. She turned to Colin. “Your turn.”

Lemon Drop passed him, head and tail raised proudly as if he were the clear winner.

     Colin stepped up to the ball, fingers tightening around the mallet and gripping it with all his frustration. He pulled the mallet back. The ball was his terrible attitude. The ball was an engagement that started off on a misunderstanding. The ball was a lack of self-control. The ball was every lie he had ever told. And last, the ball was those three stupid words he could not say.

     He dropped the mallet, tearing up a clod of grass and smacking the ball harshly. It arched in the air, tumbling back down to the earth. It hit the ground and rolled, rolled, rolled. Rose gasped, holding her breath. Lemon Drop barked. It rolled right through the hoop.

     Colin dropped the mallet. He threw his palm up and walked back towards the house. “We are fine!”