Everything has already changed, he thought and it all had changed the moment his brother lost his life.
“Your father is waiting for you in the drawing room.”
Colin nodded. “I should not keep him waiting then.” His father had never been the most patient of men. “Are you coming, Mother?”
“No, I have to see Cook about the dinner menu.”
Suddenly, he felt like a child summoned to his father’s study after he had misbehaved.
When Colin entered the room, the Duke of Dellington, Robert Smith, was sitting in a wingback chair in front of the fireplace, smoking a pipe. He turned to face him, his expression as unreadable as ever.
“Father,” Colin said; bowing in greeting.
“Wingham,” Robert said and Colin tensed. “Welcome home, Son.” He motioned for him to sit on the other chair by the fire.
Colin struggled to get his feet to carry him across the room. He'd always been Colin to his father, but now he seemed to be just Wingham. Thomas had been born as the heir, but he was known by his Christian name.
“I trust your journey was uneventful.” Robert reached for the decanter on the table between the two chairs and poured some brandy into a glass that he handed to him.
Colin was tempted to down everything in one gulp but decided to be patient and satisfied himself with a sip. “It was peaceful,” he said; wondering why his father bothered to ask that question.
Why? Becauseyou are Wingham now. Your wellbeing is essential,his inner voice reminded him.
“There is an important matter I wish to discuss with you,” his father began after exhaling a puff of smoke.
Colin had no doubt it was about his rise in station. He was the marquess now and was about to be reminded of the responsibility that comes with the title.
“I do notneed to remind you of the family responsibilities and obligations you now mustcarry. I want you to start thinking about the next generation.”
He knew his father would mention marriage even before he boarded the ship back to England and would not be surprised if the man had already chosen his bride.
“I have been considering it, Father,” he said.
“Then I advise you to acquaint yourself with the prospect of making Lady Harriet your wife.”
Colin had just taken a sip of his brandy when his father made that announcement. He began to cough; his throat burning. Lady Harriet was Thomas’s betrothed.
Robert regarded him with one brow raised as though he were offending him by choking. Colin composed himself. “Did you say Lady Harriet, Father?”
“Yes. Do you wish to dissent?”
“Yes!” That came out with more force than Colin had intended. How could he marry the woman that had been intended for his brother?
There was a great measure of disapproval in his father’s countenance. “Lady Harriet is the daughter of the Earl of Avensborough and her lineage dates back hundreds of years. She is ideal as the Marchioness of Wingham and a future duchess.”
In his father's eyes, Wingham was more than just a title. It was a way of life that Colin despised and was completely contrary to how he wished to live his life. He shook his head emphatically. “I have never met Lady Harriet. And I wish to marry a woman of my choosing.”
“Avensborough and I arranged the marriage for Thomas, and he readily agreed—”
“I am not Thomas and I do not agree.” Colin shot to his feet.
“Sit down before you give yourself apoplexy.” Robert waved his pipe.
He found himself sitting down despite his disinclination to do so.
“Now, it was initially a business arrangement,” continued the duke. “The land bordering Penningbrick belongs to Avensborough and he offered it as Lady Harriet’s dowry.”
Penningbrick Hall was the estate in Devon where Colin was born and raised. He was baffled by his father's desire to acquire more land at his expense. He'd only been in England for no more thanan hour, and he was already itching to board the next ship out of the country.