Page 26 of His Scottish Duchess

He was more than he allowed himself to show her. He was more than the rumors that surrounded his existence. And she wanted to know all about it—all about him. But it was hard to do that when he consistently evaded her questions about him.

By the time her teacup was empty, she had more questions and no answers. And she could tell that obtaining answers and solutions would be quite difficult.

CHAPTER NINE

“Ithink it would be much cheaper to rely on Mr. Simmons for the supply of our fruits and vegetables. He has proven that he can be relied on, and his produce is always quite fresh. I say we give him a chance.”

The butler nodded, scribbling down in his little notebook. “Very well, Your Grace. The gardener would like to show you the nursery he set up in the garden.”

Catherine immediately rose to her feet, startling Anna and Mrs. Starling, who had been sitting on either side of her.

“Excellent. Let us go to him at once,” she said, heading for the door.

“B-But, Your Grace! It’s long past noon! Perhaps you should take a break and have something to eat? You barely ate your breakfast,” Anna called, following her mistress.

“I’m fine, do not fret,” Catherine told her dismissively.

“Anna is right, Your Grace. The nursery is not going anywhere. Surely you can take a short break? You have been running about all day,” Mrs. Starling pointed out in her usual calm and unfeeling way.

Catherine hesitated, feeling bad that she had worried her staff this much. But she was still reluctant to give in to their wishes, due to the circumstances that had led her to run around this much.

If she wasn’t running, then she was thinking ofhim.

Her husband. His cheek. His kiss.

Her attempts to focus on anything other than her memories of his kiss never seemed to be enough. With each new day that dawned, the sensations she had felt in that bathtub grew more intense.

She could still feel the warm water seeping through her clothes, the heat that had followed his touch, the way her insides melted at the press of his lips against hers.

The horrifying thing about that whole affair was that she had wanted more, and had started to crave his scent and his teasing smirk.

I must be out of my mind, she decided and chose to stay away from him until all those odd feelings faded away.

It seemed to work just as well for her because Sampson hadn’t called for her ever since that night. But somehow, that did not provide her with the reassurance she thought it would. Because her yearning did not stop—if anything, it intensified.

“I insist,” Mrs. Starling said, gently steering her back into the drawing room. “In fact, I think you should leave the gardener be for today. If you are so incredibly keen on keeping yourself busy, then you can accompany me while I search for some of the Duke’s old business records that we keep in the attic. Perhaps something there might catch your interest.”

“Would that be all right? I do not want to impose,” Catherine said, worriedly biting her lower lip.

“It is best if you know where the attic is, as well,” Mrs. Starling added. “So that you can have the maids fetch whatever you might need whenever you need it, in the future.”

Catherine saw no problem with that, especially not with the activity serving the purpose of keeping her too busy to think about her husband.

“All right. I suppose there is no better time to get acquainted with the attic than the present,” she finally agreed.

“I am glad you think so.” Mrs. Starling nodded, before pointing at Anna, who just walked back into the drawing room. “We shall go after you have some biscuits and lemonade.”

Catherine, who had not noticed Anna leaving, was a little surprised—and strangely betrayed—by the tray the maid set in front of her.

Begrudgingly, she nibbled on a biscuit, letting her gaze wander around in a bid to find something to fixate on before her thoughts ran away with her, again.

But that proved to be a bad idea, because she managed to peer out of a window, just out of curiosity, and she spotted the gardener she was supposed to speak with. Just as her lips parted to tell Anna to inform him that they would discuss the garden another day, she spotted a man slowly approaching him on horseback.

It took a moment for her to realize that the man on the horse was her husband, and another moment to notice that he wasn’t wearing a shirt.

With a groan, she flinched, as though it had taken a lot of force to tear her gaze away, the biscuit crumbling between her fingers.

“Your Grace? Is everything all right?” Anna questioned, looking quite worried about her.

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