Page 7 of The Duke's Scottish Bride
“Marion, did your uncle and aunt ever hear about Lady Inverhall?” Verity asked.
Marion hesitated. “I mentioned her once or twice.”
Verity’s tone grew serious. “Then they will come looking for you here. You cannot stay. You must come with us and get far away from this place.”
“I will not repeat myself, sister,” Anselm folded his arms, still unwilling to relent.
“Anselm, please,” Verity pleaded. “She clearly needs help. Look at her!”
The tension in the room thickened until it became a palpable weight as Anselm looked at the would-be bride in front of him.
Marion felt a pang of guilt rush through her veins. Her cheeks flushed at the thought of such an imposition.
And yet, she was so utterly desperate.
As much as she needed an out, and there was one right in front of her in the form of Verity, this situation was her fault and hers to manage. She gave up on the idea of knights on white horses and fairytale endings long ago.
It was time to face the music.
“Verity, nay,” she interjected, stepping forward and shaking her head in resignation. “I am so sorry I dragged ye all into this. I will go back. I will go to me wedding. There is nay other option for me.”
“No!” Verity cried, looking at her in horror. “You cannot do that! What about those notes you were telling me about? The threats? Is that why you left?” she said as she walked to Marion and took her hands in her own. “I can see it in your eyes… there was another one, wasn’t there?”
The Duke’s head snapped towards Marion.
“What notes?” he demanded. “What are you talking about?”
Marion avoided his gaze. She shook her head and took her hands away from Verity.
“It is nothin’, Yer Grace,” she said. “I have acted rashly by runnin’ away from me duty. I can handle meself. The notes and Lord Gilton cannae be worse than livin’ with Reverend McCrae and his wife.” She winced as the words left her mouth.
She knew how pathetic, and unlike herself, they sounded.
The Duke took a step towards her. His expression was unreadable.
“This conversation is done,” he declared and turned to Verity. “Pack only the essentials for now. You can send for the rest later. My driver will take you in my carriage to the next travel stop. He will ensure your safe arrival, and we will regroup there.”
“Fine,” Verity mumbled, “but you may bear this on your conscience, brother. You are leaving an innocent woman in danger.”
The Duke clenched his jaw. “You have done enough recently, sister, to speak about burdened consciences.” Then, he turned to their host. “Lady Inverhall, would you be so kind as to spare me one of your carriages to take me and Lady Marion back to the village? I can hire another carriage there and send yours back to you.”
She hesitated, a flicker of concern in her eyes. “Yer Grace, surely it would be better if Marion stayed here, away from the dangers she faces. That wedding?—”
“I’m done with runaway brides,” Anselm interrupted, voice cold and unwavering. “Her duty is clear. She must return to her wedding, and that is final.”
Lady Inverhall opened her mouth to protest again, but Marion gently raised a hand to stop her.
“It’s all right, Elspeth,” Marion said softly, her voice steady despite the turmoil inside. “I daenae want ye to get into trouble on me account. I’ll go back to me wedding.”
Lady Inverhall’s eyes searched Marion’s face for a long moment, then she nodded reluctantly.
“Are you certain?”
Marion nodded, “Yes.”
Lady Inverhall pursed her lips. A moment later, she sighed.
“Very well, Yer Grace,” she said, inclining her head toward Verity. “I’ll tell me staff to fetch ye a carriage.”
