Page 12 of The Duke's Scottish Bride
“Good evening.” His voice was smooth and convincing as he offered a charming smile to the innkeeper. “My cousin, her traveling companion and I are most grateful for your vacancy this evening. We have grown weary of our travels.”
With Marion now free of that wedding gown, they had no reason to pretend they were husband and wife.
The innkeeper only nodded and led them down a dimly lit corridor.
Suddenly, Marion saw the Duke gripping Verity’s arm and pulling her back slightly out of the innkeeper’s earshot.
“Do not even think about running. Not again,” he said in a low, hard voice. “I mean it, Verity.”
“Leave her be, Yer Grace,” Marion said as she slipped back to them and wrapped an arm around Verity. “She is nae goin’ anywhere. I promise ye she will be safe with me.”
His gaze snapped to Marion. “Stay out of this, Lady Marion. This is none of your concern.”
“It is fine, Marion,” Verity interjected as a reluctant sigh escaped her lips. “He is right. I will not leave you alone with my brother.What kind of friend would I be to leave you with such a curmudgeon?”
The Duke narrowed his eyes at her, but Marion could see the flicker of relief crossing his features.
“Good. See that you do not,” he said with a final, piercing warning in his emerald eyes. “Goodnight,” he said and disappeared into his room.
“What happened? It was your wedding, Marion! And why were you with Anselm in the first place?”
Marion sank onto the soft bed where she closed her eyes to steady herself. She rubbed her temples and tried to make sense of everything that had happened.
How can I explain it all to Verity when I barely understand it myself?
She began with the note, her uncle’s sharp words, the growing dread she felt on the carriage ride to the church, and her desperate need to escape which led her to jump into a random carriage just to get away.
“I can’t believe you did that,” Verity said, half laughing. “That was reckless! I’m a terrible influence on you, I swear.”
“Maybe so.” Marion smiled faintly as a shiver running down her spine. “But anythin’ seemed better than walkin’ down that aisle.”
A small smile tugged at her lips as she thought of the Duke stepping into the carriage and feeling utterly baffled to find her sitting there.
She had been terrified, yes, but there was something about that brooding Duke—with emerald eyes like Scotland’s rolling hills—that stirred her. She’d never seen a man with such a perfectly chiseled face. From his dark hair to his strong jaw and carefully kept beard, she could not help but marvel at his immaculate appearance. And his size—so strong, tall, and capable—he radiated power, and surprisingly, she found she liked it.
True control is knowing exactly when to take what you want—and how hard to hold on when you do.
Those words of his, that moment in the carriage, his hand on her waist at that inn… It’d stirred sensations within her that she’d never imagined before.
For a moment, she wondered if this strictness, this intensity… if it all translated to passion. If the Duke was a man who’d close the distance between them completely and lay a kiss on her lips.
What am I doing? This is Verity’s brother, for goodness’ sake!
Shaking off the thought, she told Verity about the confrontation at the church.
“Well, I’m happy he stood up to that ogre uncle of yours,” Verity commented, “and that spineless dandy Gilton. Perhaps it was a bit too bold, but it was necessary.”
“’Daenae make me feel worse than I already do,” Marion muttered.
“No, it’s a good thing,” Verity said firmly. “Well, what do you think you’ll do now?”
Marion stilled. Her friend’s question hung in the air. Indeed, now that she’d left her uncle and aunt as well as her fiancé, she’d have to figure out a plan.
She hadn’t debuted in London; her uncle had forced her to meet suitors across Scotland during the summers. So, now, she’d have to rely on Verity and the Duke for that. She wasn’t thrilled about this, but perhaps they could help her find a decent husband there.
And even if she couldn’t find one, perhaps she could become a lady’s companion for a dowager; Marion knew that spinsters often chose that path. Again, she’d have to ask for a recommendation by Verity and the Duke, but surely, their word had some influence over the Londonton.
“I have an idea,” Marion whispered. “But above all, I have time to think, and that’s a luxury I’m grateful for. The only thing I regret is outin’ yer whereabouts without yer permission.”
