Page 87 of His Scottish Duchess

“Pay them no mind, dear,” Thalia said gently as she linked arms with Catherine, leading her away from the miscreants. “Please come, and show me the rules again. I felt as though I nearly had it, but I kept tripping. Benedict, come and help me.”

Benedict, ever the attentive husband, swiftly made his way to Thalia’s side, watching her attempt the game with a fond smile under Catherine’s tutelage. Meanwhile, Nora and Samuel had their easygoing nature to thank for making them quick participants, as they stumbled through the steps with cheerful abandon, their amusement adding to the general merriment.

“This is actually quite fun!” Nora said with a grin. “Perhaps you should be in charge of the games during our next get-together. You clearly have a lot of interesting activities to share.”

“I do have a number of activities I would love to share. And it would be an honor to get to do that.”

“Easy, Duchess,” Frederick teased. “It is only a game. You needn’t feel too strongly about it.”

“But then that would mean I do not cherish each moment I spend with you all. And I do,” Catherine told him innocently, blinking up at him.

“Are you trying to deprive my wife of the joy she rightly deserves?” Sampson questioned, stepping closer to her whilst glaring at Fredrick.

“I said no such thing!” Frederick balked, clearly feeling awkward. “Eleanor?—”

“Absolutely not, my love. You know I cannot stand behind you on this. Not when Catherine is involved. I’m sorry.”

It was truly a wonder to see how Catherine had seamlessly woven herself into the fabric of their close-knit group. Sampson felt blessed when he realized that they had welcomed her not as his Duchess, but as Catherine, a woman of warmth, intelligence, and an indomitable spirit.

And she, in turn, had found in them companions and acquaintances that had made her feel cherished and accepted, relating to them with no thoughts spared to any lingering insecurities she might have once harbored about belonging in this new world. She basked in the easy companionship, the shared jokes, and the unspoken understanding between them.

Sampson had discovered a comfortable pastime watching her during every interaction, as a quiet pride swelled in his chest. He was filled with a profound sense of contentment to see her so genuinely happy, so completely at ease. His thoughts oftenstrayed to how he had nearly lost her, his demons threatening to shatter the fragile happiness they had found.

But her unwavering love and her fierce belief in him had pulled him back from the brink. He knew he didn’t deserve her, not fully, not with the darkness of his past, but he would spend the rest of his life trying to be worthy of the love she so freely gave.

As the evening wore on, however, a different kind of longing began to stir within him. Surrounded by the din of the party, his gaze kept returning to Catherine, his awareness of her heightened.

He craved her attention, the feel of her hand in his, the radiance of her smile. Her interactions with their friends, while they brought him joy, also sparked a possessive urge, a desire to have her all to himself if only for a little while.

He made his way to her, his hand finding the small of her back, his touch firm yet gentle. Catherine turned, her face lighting up at the sight of him.

“Enjoying yourself, love?” he murmured, his voice low, a private intimacy offered amidst the surrounding revelry.

“Immensely,” she replied, her eyes sparkling with laughter. “They are all hopeless at the Highland Fling Clapping Game, but they are certainly enthusiastic. I am proud to have such eager students.”

Sampson’s gaze dropped to her lips and lingered there for a moment as a familiar heat rose within him.

“I believe it is time we said our farewells,” he said, his voice husky. “I find myself in need of… quieter company.”

A knowing smile spread across Catherine’s face, a spark of anticipation in her green eyes as her cheeks flushed pink. She squeezed his hand slightly and said, “In that case, my dear Duke, I believe I am ready to be escorted back to our room.”

Their goodbyes were warm but brief, a promise to attend the gatherings any of their friends might host in the future. As their carriage pulled away from Eleanor’s brightly lit house, a comfortable silence settled between them, the unspoken anticipation filling the space as they simply enjoyed each other’s embrace.

Back at Rosehall Estate, the quiet of their shared room was a welcome contrast to the lively energy of the party. Sampson shed his jacket, his gaze never leaving Catherine as she moved about the room, her movements fluid and graceful even in her obvious exhaustion.

He reached for her, pulling her gently into his arms. “I missed you tonight,” he murmured, burying his face in the soft curve of her neck, inhaling the familiar scent of lavender and roses.

“And I missed your quiet presence beside me,” she confessed, her arms wrapping around his waist, holding him close. “ThoughI must admit, I did enjoy seeing Frederick attempt the Heel-Toe Stamp of Utter Confusion.”

A chuckle rumbled in Sampson’s chest. He tilted her chin up, his eyes locking onto hers, the love he felt for her tangible in the air between them.

“You are a light in my life, Catherine,” he said, his voice thick with emotion. “A warmth I never thought I would find.”

He lowered his head, their lips meeting in a tender kiss that deepened with a familiar urgency. She leaned into him, wrapping her arms around him as he pulled her flush against him, moaning when he reached down to squeeze her buttocks.

“Is it bad that I wish to keep you with me at all times? Just you and me, in this room, away from prying eyes at all times. So your eyes will always be on me,” he whispered, trailing kisses down the curve of her neck as he stripped her of her dress.

“That’s—ah—not a bad idea. Just you and me, in our own world forever. Although, it is not as though you are not constantly the object of my attention and affection. I am always looking at you and to you. Only you.” She sighed as his hands roamed over her body, tracing her curves.

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