Page 86 of His Scottish Duchess

Catherine beckoned Selina over, and the latter slipped away from her husband for the sake of her dear friend, who needed her attention.

“Yes, dear?” Selina asked, smiling at Catherine, murderous intent forgotten.

“Might we exchange mallets? I cannot seem to get a good grip on mine.”

“Oh, certainly, dearest.” Selina nodded, running back to where her mallet had been discarded to pick it up and offer it to Catherine, taking the one the younger woman held out to her.

“Thank you.” Catherine beamed innocently.

Selina squealed and wrapped her arms around Catherine, giggling happily as she said, “You are absolutely welcome, you precious darling!”

“How does your wife manage to take the grumpiest folks and turn them into pleasant people? I still marvel at the sorcery she employed to reform you, friend,” Benedict snorted, leaning towards Sampson.

Sampson could hardly disagree with the sentiment, having noticed that whenever Selina was particularly irritated, Catherine was quick to call her attention elsewhere, effectively calming her down.

Sampson also couldn’t deny that Catherine had influenced him somewhat, happy to admit to whoever would listen that his love for his wife had made his life much better over the past weeks.

As time had flown bySampson had undergone some sort of transformation, much like the seasons. The darkness that had clung to him for so long had begun to recede, replaced by a lightness of which he had never dared to dream. Sleep that had once evaded him or begrudgingly arrived with devasting nightmares now found him easily, and along with it came a sense of peace he had not known since he was but a young boy.

The shadows that resided in his eyes had lightened, and he had traded his mischievous smirk for a genuine smile that he often graced the public with, especially when his wife was with him.

Simply put, Sampson was happier than he would have thought was possible. And Catherine was the reason.

“What can I say? It is easy and worthwhile to love her.” He shrugged, watching as she knocked her ball through the last loop before the game ended with her as the victor. “Unlike you, who has spent years working hard to be seen as a blight on mankind.”

Benedict made to hit Sampson with his mallet, but he dropped it quickly when Catherine bounded over, excited and flushed.

“Sampson! I won!”

“Congratulations, Duchess.” Benedict smiled at her gently, before glaring at Sampson as he chuckled.

Sampson ignored his friend in favor of pulling his wife closer to reward her with a kiss.

“I saw,” he mumbled against her lips. “Excellent work, my dear.”

Catherine glowed beneath his praise, her cheeks darkening as she nodded shyly. “Thank you, darling.”

Eleanor raised her hand and beckoned them to where the rest of them were gathered, and Catherine clung to Sampson on the way there, listening to Benedict with rapt attention as he complained about the unsportsmanlike conduct that had nearly landed him in the lake a little ways from the property, and how he was seriously considering burying Frederick behind the property for such behavior.

It seemed as though Benedict quite liked having Catherine’s attention on him—as they all did, for which Sampson could not fault them. Although Eleanor’s house party had been rather impromptu, it was clear that a lot of thought had gone into the preparations. And the company was good—just a simple collection of people who shared an easy camaraderie, with a history of fond memories behind them.

Although Catherine was still fairly new to the group, her presence was as radiant as her happiness was infectious. It made many of the guests happy simply to be around her.

Sampson thought she looked especially beautiful that day, with her hair partially unbound and shining beneath the bright sun, a few playful tendrils framing her glowing face. Her green dress made her eyes glow like emeralds as she enthusiastically taught their friends a lively Scottish game with much clapping, stomping, and bursts of exuberant Gaelic.

“No, you’re doing it wrong!” she giggled, reaching forward to hold Thalia’s hands. “Like this.”

Eleanor and Frederick watched her with open affection, which made Sampson feel the need to give them a pointed reminder.

“She’s mine. Whatever ideas you might have to steal my wife from me should perish, henceforth. They will never work.”

Frederick grinned, seeing an opportunity to tease Sampson and his wife.

“I do not think you should underestimate my wife’s seductive power. And it has been established that Catherine adores Eleanor, so I believe we have a chance.”

“I would not count my chickens before they hatch if I were you,” Catherine said innocently, making Nora and Samuel snort. “I do adore Eleanor, but I’m afraid I favor my husband more. No matter what. And he knows that, so there is no use threatening him.”

Selina burst into peals of laughter, momentarily forgetting that she was in the middle of executing an intricate step of the game, which resulted in her nearly falling. Luckily, Aaron had been close enough to catch her before she fell to the floor, rolling his eyes fondly when she sighed and dramatically murmured, “My hero.”

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