Page 44 of The Duke's Scottish Bride
“Have you readThe Highland Holiday?” a giggling young lady asked another while fanning herself vigorously. “The hero is so frightfully brooding, and the heroine… so utterly spirited! One can only dream of such a passionate affair!”
“I hope I can find a Highlander myself one day!” Her friend said back, giggling as she devoured apetit four.
Verity was wearing a simple, light pink gown, which matched her complexion as she beamed, taking in the conversation.
Marion watched how animated she was, chatting freely with a small group of admirers. Surprisingly, it was mostly younger gentlemen drawn to her vivacious spirit as they gathered around her. Marion walked over, as Anselm was involved in a business conversation that bored her, listening from the periphery.
“Lady Verity,” one young lord started, a hopeful glint in his eye. “Do-do-do you find such grand romantic gestures believable? A duke, riding across the country for his love?”
Verity merely smiled politely and raised her eyebrow.
“I imagine a true heart, Lord Roughton, knows no bounds.”
“Have you known such love?” A young girl asked.
“Well, it is aspirational but love such as that is rare. So, statistically speaking, no.”
Marion walked away then to enjoy a quiet moment turning about the grounds when an old friend caught her eye. The sight brought a smile to her face that pushed her forward in a rush to meet her.
“Catriona! And Yer Grace,” she exclaimed. Her face lit up as she embraced her dear friend. “Oh, sweet Lydia! And the twins! Ye are all here!”
Marion noted that Catriona was radiant. Motherhood looked quite good on her. It had not been long since her own nuptials.
Catriona held one swaddled infant, Sarah, while Lydia held Elizabeth. They were both sleeping soundly and peacefully as only babies can be.
“Marion, darlin’!” Catriona squeezed her. “It is so good to see ye! And how are ye doin’ with the duties of bein’ a duchess? I swear, it is more exhaustin’ than a full day’s huntin’, which ye ken I would prefer. I ken ye would too!”
“Especially when you have to carry these little bundles everywhere,” Richard chuckled as he gently kissed the top of Elizabeth’s head.
“Marion, I hear there’s a new novel causing quite a stir,” Lydia said as she smiled at her. “A Scottish romance…”
“Yes, I may have heard of such a book,” Marion answered with a winked and grinned back at her.
“Do you know where I may get a copy?”
“Just focus on Elizabeth, for now,” Richard ordered as he shook his head. “There will be time enough for such things when the babies are grown.”
Suddenly, a ripple went through the crowd and a hushed silence filled the yard.
Heads turned to see what the cause of the commotion was. Marion watched Lord Mansfield, a notorious rake, stumble backward, nearly toppling a vase of peonies. She brought her hands to her face to stifle her laughter, which quickly evaporated when she saw the reason for the disturbance.
Lord Gilton.
He slithered confidently through the parting guests like a snake in the grass.
He was impeccably dressed in crimson, which felt a bit out of place at a garden party and despite the fineness of the clothing. He had a faint, almost sickening smile gracing his lips as his eyes landed right on her. He walked with a determined gait in her direction, paying no mind to the frozen glances he left in his wake. Marion felt a cold dread creep up her spine and her breath caught in her throat.
Aye, I have dreaded this moment, much as I ken it would come…
Just as Gilton reached her, Anselm, seemingly out of nowhere, was by Marion’s side. She felt his presence surround her like a wall. She felt safe. His hand instinctively settled on the small of her back. It served as a grounding weight that sent a sense of calm flooding through her.
“Ah, Your Graces! I wanted to personally extend my sincerest congratulations on your nuptials. A most expeditious and unexpected union.” He took her hand and planted a cool kiss on it.
Anselm’s body tightened in response, which Marion could feel in every fiber of her being. She simply nodded.
“One must admit, seeing you both now, you are remarkably well-matched. A truly handsome couple,” he said as he extended a hand to Anselm then. “Truly.”
“Indeed,” Anselm answered cooly.
