Page 10 of The Duke's Scottish Bride
The Duke’s gaze snapped back to her. “And yet you didn’t tell me about the death threats. Not once.”
She met his eyes defiantly. “And what have I seen of ye but cold commands and brusque orders? Ye practically dragged Verity from Lady Inverhall’s house like a man haulin’ a reluctant servant. Why should I trust someone who treats others like property?”
His jaw tightened. “You know nothing of me or my family.”
“I saw how ye treated Verity. Ye ’dinnae even sit to speak with her or ask why she left. Ye cut her off before she could explain.”
The Duke didn’t hesitate to close the distance between their opposing seats in the carriage. “Verity did plenty of damage by disappearing without a word. Sometimes actions speak louder than explanations.”
She held his gaze steadily and her chest rose and fell as she took quiet breaths. “Maybe if ’ye’d listened, things would be different. But ye chose to judge before ye understood.”
“I have carried enough responsibility to be capable of judging, my lady.”
“Carrying a lot of responsibility doesn’t give you the right to dismiss those who need to speak,” she shot back. “No one’s right all the time.”
The Duke’s mouth twitched. “I am right often enough.”
“Maybe that’s the problem,” she countered sharply. “Ye think bein’ right is a license to silence others.”
He met her gaze steadily. When he spoke, his voice was low, steady, and tinged with steel. “Sometimes silence is the only thing keeping a man from losing control.”
“Control isnae the same as strength.”
He let his voice drop low until it was little more than a growl.
“True control is knowing exactly when to take what you want—and how hard to hold on when you do.”
Marion’s breath hitched. The Duke sat so close to her that his bold words sent a thrill through her despite herself. She felt the heat radiating off him as the space between them shrank until it felt impossible to breathe. Her heart hammered loud and fast as she became acutely aware of his nearness; the faint brush of his skin, the sharp scent of him, the electric tension pulling tight between them.
For a moment, the world narrowed to just the two of them as they were caught in a fragile, charged silence that seemed to hold infinite possibilities.
Then, with a sudden, controlled motion, the Duke pulled back just enough to break the spell. His eyes were dark and unreadable.
“We have a few hours ahead of us,” he said quietly. “No need to waste time on distractions.”
They didn’t speak for a long time, but Marion felt a phantom current linger in the air around them.
It’ would be a long journey, indeed.
Four long hours later, the carriage rattled to a halt outside a coaching inn in Dunkeld. The morning sun, which had witnessed their dramatic departure from Strathcairn, was now well into its afternoon descent as the sky turned amber.
They stepped down and stretched their cramped limbs as they took in the fresh air. They went inside the inn and found Verity waiting at the entrance. Her face registered a mixture of relief and shock at the sight of Lady Marion with him.
“Marion!” she cried, rushing forward to embrace her friend. “What happened?” Before Lady Marion could respond, Verity turned to him. “Thank you, brother,” she said, smiling.
Anselm paid the driver, included a generous tip for his haste, and sent the rented carriage back to Strathcairn. He walked over to the ladies then and nodded at Verity before turning to Lady Marion. His gaze swept over her conspicuous wedding dress.
“Do you have another gown, or at least a cloak to cover that up a bit?” he asked Verity as he noticed curious glances already being cast their way.
He loathed attention. The memory of the scuffle in the Strathcairn inn sat fresh in his mind. He did not want any trouble or questions. The Scottish folk did not take kindly to wandering English Dukes.
“Yes, I’ have several dresses in my trunks.”
“Good. It seems we have attracted some attention,” he said, realizing he should have planned first and entered the inn second. “So, we will stop here for rest and a late lunch, then continue our trek in about two hours. Lastly… due to this attention we’re receiving, we must pretend that Lady Marion is my bride.”
Verity and Lady Marion looked at each other in shock.
“Clearly, he is right to say so, Verity… We daenae want to attract any attention. I will go along with yer story, Yer Grace. I am grateful for your intervention and quick thinkin’,husband.” Lady Marion looked up at Anselm beneath full eyelashes.
