Page 16 of His Scottish Duchess

Everyone did, except Catherine.

She had selfishly held onto him, with a plea to whoever could hear her to take her instead, or to take them both if he had to go.

She had never told anyone about it, especially when Graham had made a full recovery and was strutting around as though nothing had ever been wrong.

“You are even more interesting than I am,” Sampson stated.

“I highly doubt that. There is nothing remotely fascinating about me. Ye are a duke with a rather suspicious reputation that apparently precedes ye. I can guarantee ye are more worthy of a conversation than I am. Now, will ye answer my question?”

“It depends on what you ask, doesn’t it, Duchess?”

Feeling tired, Catherine sat back. “It’s nae very fair of ye to set rules and nae follow them.”

“But it is my game, is it not? I should be awarded the right to bend the rules however I wish, no?” he countered cheekily. “Allright. I’ll let you ask one more question. Perhaps if I am feeling magnanimous, I will give you the answers you seek.”

Catherine leveled an unimpressed stare at him and scoffed. “That is nae nearly as generous as ye think.”

“So you do not wish to take the offer?”

“I didnae—didn’t say that,” she hurriedly.

“Ask away, then.”

This was a rare opportunity she did not expect to have, and she couldn’t bear the idea of wasting it.

“Do you need some time? A pen and parchment, perhaps?” He chuckled as he refilled their wine glasses.

She laughed without humor, then she leaned forward. “Why is this house so quiet?”

Sampson raised an eyebrow at her inquisitively. “I beg your pardon?”

“This house. My family doesnae have a rank as prestigious as yers or an estate as grand as yers, but we still have a good number of servants. Ye barely have enough, in my opinion. However, I will admit that they are very efficient when it comes to their chores and duties. But they have had to take on quite abit for such a large place. Why would ye want it to be so quiet and so empty?”

Sampson’s smile was slow and knowing. “You really are determined to dig into my secrets, aren’t you?”

She met his gaze steadily. “Ye refuse to answer every question I ask. It’s only fair.”

Sampson considered her for a long moment. Then, in one fluid motion, he reached for the buttons of his shirt and tugged it off, adding it to the other discarded items.

Catherine scoffed. “Ye cannae keep doing that.”

“I can,” he said smoothly. “And I will.” He leaned in, his voice dropping to a low purr. “Now, Duchess, it’s my turn again. Have you ever found yourself chasing something outside the lines of propriety? For instance, have you ever tried to pleasure yourself?”

“Nay—no. I dinnae want to play anymore. It is obvious ye were merely trying to make a fool of me, and I will no longer stand for it. I came because ye summoned me, and I made the mistake of buying into yer poor excuse of wanting company. I will do that no more.”

“It sounds as though you had already surmised what would happen if you came here. So why did you come?” Sampsonquestioned, looking as though her refusal hadn’t fazed him in the slightest.

“I was trying to be a good wife and duchess to ye! What sort of woman would I be if I decided to ignore my husband and Duke’s orders, barely two days after we were married?”

Sampson’s eyes took on a glint Catherine wasn’t familiar with, and unease coiled in her stomach.

The Duke tapped his chin, staring at her as his lips curled into a wolfish grin. “Well then, since you are so intent on being a good duchess, perhaps you could prove your dedication by undressing for me.”

Catherine went rigid. Heat flooded her cheeks, but she kept her expression neutral. He was goading her, waiting for her to sputter and protest. She wouldn’t give him the satisfaction.

So, she rose to her feet.

Sampson’s smirk faltered.

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