Page 55 of The Replacement Duchess

He knew, of course, exactly what that was.

All in all, he managed an entire ten minutes before returning to his wife’s room.

“Colin!” she gasped, still in her corset. “What are you doing here?”

“I do not wish to be alone tonight,” he said quietly.

“But you have been alone every night. What is so different?”

“It was hardly a choice before. Now it is, and I refuse to choose it.”

And, though he could not tell whether or not he was surprised by it, she did not argue any further and instead opened the door immediately.

“Is something wrong?” she asked.

“We have hardly spoken. I wanted to know how you are, now that we have arrived and you have had some time to think.”

“I am perfectly content,” she replied. “Your house, what I have seen of it, at least, is magnificent and I am sure that in time I shall feel quite at home too.”

“It isourhouse now.”

“Our house.” She nodded. “Yes, our house is lovely.”

He sighed, sitting on the edge of her bed, and she gingerly seated herself beside him.

“Something is troubling you, isn’t it?”

Yes, he wanted to say. Yes, I was supposed to live and die as a bachelor and now I have a wife who is beautiful and has sacrificed everything throughout her life and now she has to live out her days with a wretched man who cannot offer her anything that she needs no matter how much he wishes to.

“No, of course not.”

He did not wish to cause her any more concern than she clearly already had.

“I would prefer it if you told me when there was something amiss,” she said gently. “If this is to work, then you and I must at least try to communicate with one another.”

“And I will when necessary. For now, I am far more concerned with you and how you are feeling.”

“Ah,” she said, almost smirking. “Well, I am being quite hypocritical if I am being honest. I will tell you, but not right now. It is not the time.”

“It is always the time,” he pressed. “There will never be a time where I do not want you to be honest with me. Whatever it is, we can fix it, I promise.”

“I know, or at least I believe I do. I only mean that I would rather discuss it when we have slept.”

“Very well, then. We shall sleep.”

He stood to leave, but she took his wrist in her hand. He looked at her hand, and then looked at her face. She was as white as a sheet, her wide eyes not moving from her own hand.

“Do forgive me,” she said quickly, releasing him.

“Do you not wish for me to leave?”

“You can do what pleases you.”

“I wish to be the one to please you,” he whispered, stepping dangerously close to her, “Tell me what to do, and I shall do just that, but I will only do it if you tell me to.”

“I—You are the husband.”

“I amyourhusband,” he corrected her. “So until you tell me to go or to stay, I will not do anything.”

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