Page 71 of The Duke’s Matchmaker

Nathaniel waited an hour, hoping to give Colin time to calm down. Then he went to look for him.

The search didn’t take that long. Colin was in his bedroom, curled up in the window seat with a blanket around his shoulders. His head rested against the window, and he was gazing out at the grounds. He didn’t look up when Nathaniel came in.

Nathaniel thought of asking whether he could sit down, but he didn’t want to give Colin the opportunity to say no—he might have refused just out of spite. He crossed the room and perched on the window seat next to his brother.

“I’m sorry,” he said. “About arguing with you.”

Colin looked at him. His eyes were full of tears.

“Oh, Colin,” Nathaniel sighed. “I didn’t mean to make you sad.”

“I liked Dorothy,” Colin said, his voice breaking. “She took care of me.”

“I know she did. I know that.”

“Did I do something wrong? Is that why she doesn’t want to come back?”

“No, Colin, of course not. You didn’t do anything. She likes you a great deal. It’s me she’s angry at.”

“Because I thought maybe she didn’t like that I called her Mother. It was only a mistake,” Colin said quickly. “I’ll never do it again, I promise.”

“Colin.” Nathaniel wanted to reach out and pull the boy into his arms, but the two of them had never done that, and he had no idea how Colin would respond. He didn’t want to alarm him while he was already so upset, so he restrained himself. “You didn’t do anything wrong. I think Dorothy sort of liked knowing that she reminded you of your mother. It was a sweet thing to say to her. She wasn’t upset at all.”

“Then why doesn’t she come back?” Colin’s tears spilled over. “She must have decided she doesn’t like me.”

“No, Colin. I tell you, it’s me she’s upset with. Not you.”

“What did you do? You must have done something wrong to her. But you could say you’re sorry and make it right,” Colin said. “Whatever it is, tell her you didn’t mean it and you’ll never do it again. And then she’ll want to be friends with us again.”

If only it were that easy.

“I’ll try to do that,” Nathaniel said, mostly because he couldn’t bear the thought that he had made Colin cry. There was no real chance of winning Dorothy back, of course, but perhaps Colin could better adjust to that idea slowly than if Nathaniel tried to force him to accept it all at once.

Colin studied his face.

“I think you’re lying,” he whispered. “I think you’re just saying that. You’re not going to try. You’re not going to tell her that you’re sorry. You’re just going to ignore her and never talk to her again, aren’t you?”

“Colin…”

Colin struggled his way out of his blanket and to his feet. “I want you to get out of my room,” he said, his voice trembling. “You made her go. You took her away.”

There was nothing Nathaniel could say to that. In essence, Colin was completely right. It was his fault Dorothy would no longer be in their lives. He had allowed Colin to grow attached to her, and now she had been lost, just as Colin’s mother had been lost.

My mother. It was still so strange to think of her in that way. She had been Colin’s mother so much more than she had been his. Colin was the one she had raised, and Colin was the one who had suffered the most at losing her. Nathaniel was just another child she’d had a long time ago.

And now the pattern was repeating. They were both losing someone who had mattered to them, and again Colin was carrying more of the burden than he deserved. But this time, Nathaniel knew, he wasn’t going to escape unscathed. The loss of Dorothy had cut him deeply, and he was ill-equipped to provide Colin the comfort he so clearly needed.

There was a knock at the bedroom door.

He got up and opened it, relieved to find Helen, the governess. “Your Grace,” she murmured. “There’s a visitor at the door for you.”

Nathaniel’s heart leapt. Could it possibly be? Could she have thought things through and changed her mind? Come back to tell him that she would accept his proposal after all?

“Stay with Colin,” he told Helen, and she nodded and stepped into the room. Nathaniel moved past her and hurried down the stairs, moving as fast as he could, anxious to get to Dorothy before she changed her mind again and ran away. Every moment felt urgent, as though his fortune might shift again if he took too long. He wouldn’t feel secure until he was with her, until he was able to see her for himself. He wouldn’t know that things were going to be all right until she had said the words. And then he could bring her upstairs to Colin, and Colin would see that everything was going to be all right after all.

They could get back on track.

They could be a family.