Page 74 of His Scottish Duchess

When they finally reached their peak, their bodies shuddering in unison, she clung to him, her breath coming in ragged gasps, herheart pounding against her ribs. The world spun around her, a rush of sensations and emotions of love, safety, and gratitude.

Caught up in the waves that still had her heart racing, she looked up at him, her eyes overflowing with love.

“Fill me with your seed, my love,” she whispered, her voice thick with adoration. “Let me bear you an heir.”

CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

“What… what did you say?”

The words, spoken with such innocent desire, hung in the air like a death knell. Sampson’s breath hitched, his heart stuttering in his chest.

Surely he had misheard. She understood him. She told him she respected his wishes, so she couldn’t want?—

He couldn’t. He simply couldn’t do that. The very idea made a cold dread coil in his gut, a visceral rejection of a future he had long ago deemed forbidden for him to even consider.

He recoiled, pulling away from her abruptly. The suddenness of his movement caused her blissful expression to falter. The blush on her cheeks did not fill him with the sense of pride it had earlier, and her brow furrowed in confusion.

Although it hurt him, as the warmth that had enveloped him moments ago vanished and was replaced by a chilling emptiness, he kept his distance because he had to put a stop to whatever she was thinking.

“Sampson?” she murmured sleepily as she reached out a hand to him, her fingers brushing against his arm. “What is it?”

He sat up, his back to her, his mind and heart still racing as he scrambled for a way to resolve this as quickly as possible.

“I… I cannot do that, Catherine,” he said, his voice strained.

The words felt like shards of glass tearing through his throat because although he knew he needed to cut the situation down by its legs, it was still hard to deny Catherine something she wanted.

Lord,he groaned inwardly, dropping his head into his hands.What sort of man have I become?

Catherine pushed herself up on her elbows, her eyes wide with confusion, the soft light catching the bewilderment on her face. “Cannot do what? Whatever do you mean, Sampson?”

He remained facing away, unable to meet her gaze, the weight of his past pressing down on him.

“I cannot… I cannot have a child.”

Her confusion deepened, now tinged with a growing concern.

“Why not? Is something… Are you unwell?” She reached out again, her touch more insistent this time, her fingers gripping his arm, urging him to face her.

He flinched at her touch, pulling his arm away as if he was burned. He stood up and started pacing the small confines of the room, the need to move, to escape the suffocating weight of her request overwhelming him.

“It is not that,” he said, his voice sharper than intended. “It is… it is something else entirely.”

He avoided her gaze, his eyes fixed on the dying embers in the fireplace, the flickering light offering him some form of solace as it seemed to reflect his inner turmoil.

Catherine sat up fully now, the silken sheets pooling around her waist. Her expression was a mixture of hurt and growing frustration.

“Then tell me, Sampson. What is it? Why would you say such a thing? After… after what we just shared?”

Sampson let his legs lead him about the room again, trying to buy himself some time until he discovered the safest way to end their conversation.

He couldn’t tell her. Not necessarily because he did not want to—although that was strongly affecting his ability to come clean. The words were trapped in his throat, a dark secret he had guarded for years, a truth that threatened to shatter the fragile happiness they had begun to build.

The happiness he wanted to guard more than anything.

“It is… complicated,” he said, the word a weak shield against her persistent questioning.

“Complicated?” she repeated, her voice rising in disbelief. “What could be so complicated about having a child? If you do not wish to yet, then say so. But to say youcannot? What in God’s name does that mean, Sampson? I thought we had gotten past evasive answers. I thought we had found something… new. Something special between us.”

---