Page 40 of His Scottish Duchess

Catherine lowered her eyes. “No one has… No one has ever said such things to me. And you’re quite a looker yourself.”

Sampson nodded with a grin. “That is why we make an ideal pair.”

His words made her cheeks flush and her heart pound. She tried to focus on the steps, on the rhythm of the music, but he continued to distract her with his words and his touch, clearly deriving a lot of joy from seeing her squirm.

When the music finally ended, Catherine breathed a sigh of relief, feeling a mixture of exhilaration and embarrassment. There was certainly a moment where she had enjoyed herself. However, with all the stares she could feel on her, she felt as though her lack of skills was quite obvious.

She was glad that it was over, but her reprieve was short-lived. As they walked towards the edge of the dance floor, she overheard snippets of conversation, harsh whispers that cut through the music that was starting up again.

“Such dreadful dancing,” a woman sneered, her voice dripping with disdain. “She moves like a… a milkmaid, not a duchess.”

Another woman, her voice sharp and brittle, chimed in, “And have you seen her hair? That fiery red is hardly fashionable, and those freckles… quite unsightly, really.”

A third voice, laced with arrogance, added, “She clearly has no class. It’s obvious she’s not accustomed to polite society. One wonders what the Duke of Rosehall was thinking—marrying someone below his standards. A hasty marriage, no doubt.”

“She’ll never fit in, you know,” the first woman concluded. “She has no hope of properly adjusting. Mark my words, this will end in disaster.”

Catherine’s cheeks burned, and she instinctively shrank back, wishing she could disappear. The words hit her like a physical blow, confirming her deepest insecurities. She had tried so hard to fit in, to learn the rules and customs of this new land, but it seemed it was never enough.

But before she could fully process the sting of their words, Sampson stepped forward, his voice cutting through the whispers like a sharp blade. The playful charm he had displayed moments ago vanished, replaced by a cold, dangerous edge.

“Ladies,” he said, his voice low and smooth, but with an underlying steel that made their eyes widen, “I could not help but overhear your… observations about my wife. Allow me to assure you that my wife is absolutely perfect for me because she was not born to serve you or meet your rigid expectations. Her unique beauty captivates me every day, and she possesses a grace and intelligence that surpasses anything you could possibly comprehend.”

He paused, his gaze sweeping over them, his eyes glittering with a hint of menace.

For a moment, Catherine got a good look at the Sampson who had a reputation for being a shrewd businessman who didn’t hesitate to get what he wanted. The women visibly paled under his intense stare.

“Furthermore,” he continued, his voice dropping to a murmur, “I suggest you choose your words more carefully when discussing my wife. I have a rather excellent memory, and I tend to take such matters very personally. I trust I have made myself clear?”

The women were speechless, their faces flushed with a mixture of fear and embarrassment. They stammered out weak apologies, their earlier confidence completely shattered as they scurried away.

Catherine’s heart swelled with gratitude, but she couldn’t find the words to thank him, awestruck into shyness.

Sampson turned to her, a smirk playing on his lips as he lifted her hand to his lips, pressing a kiss to the back of it.

“Now, where were we?” he asked, his voice laced with amusement. “I believe I was about to tell you how ravishing you look tonight and how it is a crime that I cannot do something about it publicly.”

As Catherine’s blush deepened, she couldn’t help but think that there was likely no better place for her at that moment than right under the full force of her husband’s attention.

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

“Yes, there. That is perfect.”

The footmen moved away from the shelf and stood aside so Catherine could get a good look at her handiwork. She surveyed the drawing room with a critical eye, a small smile playing on her lips.

It did not surprise her at all that Mrs. Starling and her husband had been correct when they suggested that she spare no expense on items to redecorate the manor. She had ignored a basic detail from the start—the grandeur of the manor itself. The house was the very picture of elegance and classic beauty. It was only fair that it was filled with items that showed its owner’s wealth.

And now that she had taken their advice, the transformation was remarkable. Gone were the faded draperies and repurposed furniture. In their place were sumptuous velvet curtains in a rich sapphire blue, complemented by exquisitely carved mahogany tables and plush, silk-upholstered chairs. She had given littlethought to the budget, ensuring that every piece reflected the grandeur of a duke’s residence.

This time, she had also consulted with the most reputable furniture makers and interior designers in London, selecting only the finest materials and most skilled craftsmen. She had learned her lesson. Extravagance, it seemed, was not merely acceptable, but expected. And she was determined to ensure that Rosehall reflected her husband’s status in all its splendor.

“Your Grace.” Mrs. Starling’s voice broke through her reverie. “The transformation is truly remarkable. You have done an exceptional job—as I believed you were capable of doing.”

Catherine turned to the housekeeper, a warm smile gracing her lips. “Thank you, Mrs. Starling. I wanted to ensure that Rosehall reflected the Duke’s status. I truly hope I have managed to add more splendor to his name and title.”

Mrs. Starling’s eyes sparkled with genuine admiration. “Suitable is an understatement, Your Grace. It is magnificent. You have come such a long way since your arrival. I must say, I am quite impressed with how quickly you have adjusted to your role as a duchess.”

Catherine felt a flush of pride warm her cheeks. Mrs. Starling’s approval meant a great deal, especially after the awkwardness of their initial interactions.

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