The Bluestocking Brides by Samantha Holt

Author:Samantha Holt [Holt, Samantha]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Helstone Press
Published: 2022-06-05T23:00:00+00:00

Chapter Six

“You will be staying in London for the rest of the year?” Julia asked.

Emma sighed. “That’s what he says.”

“Guy did say he spends all his time in London. I should have warned you.” Julia lounged back against the sofa, hardly the image of the elegant duchess she was now meant to be. After over a year of marriage Julia had not changed one bit. She was headstrong and passionate about the countryside and animals. It seemed Guy was intent on encouraging her passion.

Unfortunately for Emma, her own husband did not seem to care so much about what Emma liked or wanted to do. London held no excitement for her and she wanted to be near her family.

“He seemed determined we should stay in Town. He loathes the countryside.” Emma addressed Julia. “Do you know why?”

Julia lifted a shoulder. “He grew up in Berkshire. But his parents died when he was attending Oxford. Guy says he rarely went home after that, and now avoids it altogether.”

“You shall have to persuade him otherwise.” Catherine snatched up a biscuit from the table in the middle of the drawing room of Morgan’s townhouse.

Not Morgan’s, though. Theirs now. Emma wrinkled her nose. She was not sure she wanted a townhouse.

Her mama pressed her fingers together. “I shall miss you so. It’s going to be too quiet with your father always gone. Though”—a smile crossed her lips—“how jealous everyone shall be. Four daughters married and to titled men no less.”

“Mama, you should not boast,” scolded Amelia.

Mama straightened. “Everyone said you were all too freckled and red to marry, but I always told them otherwise.”

Amelia shook her head and shared a look with Emma. As much as their mother loved them, she had often complained that the only one to take after her in looks was Lavinia—who had been the first to marry a handsome Scottish laird.

“You certainly should not boast of my marriage, Mama. Everyone will know it was to cover a scandal by now,” Emma said.

“Oh shush.” Mama waved a hand at her. “I will not hear another word about scandal. The deed is done now and you are a countess.”

Countess. How odd the word sounded. It had been hard enough to get used to her sisters being titled, let alone herself. With their heads filled with the idea of them being far too bluestocking to attract a husband—and well, frankly, their own interests—none of them had thought such a thing would be possible.

Emma suppressed a sigh. Julia and Amelia had love, though. That was the main difference between them. That, and their own passions. Emma had always envied them that. It seemed no matter what she tried, she could not find one that she liked or was good at. Painting had been terrible. Singing and song-writing even worse. Her poetry has been dismal. Her last attempt at card tricks had been to no avail. Even Catherine had astronomy. Emma...well, she had nothing.

Catherine gave Emma a nudge with her elbow. “Don’t be sad, Emma, you can persuade him to stay in the country.

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