Page 21 of Claiming His Scottish Duchess
She hadn’t seen him in days, not since that tense exchange at the ball and their dance. His presence, his gaze, had lingered in hermind since. It was impossible to ignore the pull of him—the way he seemed to tower above everyone, not just in stature, but in some unspoken way.
His cold, brooding nature only made her more curious, more fascinated. She didn’t know whether to resent or admire the way he commanded a room, or how easily he seemed to dominate her thoughts.
But the races—now that would be a welcome distraction, a reprieve from the weight of his presence.
Still, if the duke happened to be there, she wouldn’t mind seeing if his brooding eyes could find her among the crowd.
Chapter Eight
“Cha tèid na tha th’ agad romhad seachad ort.” What is before you will not pass you by.
“Catriona, for pity’s sake. Could ye at least mind yer posture!” her mother hissed, tugging at the sleeve of Catriona’s gown.
It was yet another dig thrown at her meticulously chosen but, in Lady Craigleith’s opinion, insufficiently alluring gown.
“Shoulders back, chin up! We are here to impress potential suitors, nae to gawk at everythin’ like common folk.”
The racecourse was a riot of sensory overload, unlike anything Catriona had seen before.
The ground vibrated with the pounding hooves as the horses practiced on the inner tracks. There was a low rumble beneath the excited chatter of the throng as patrons made their way to the track. Some were obtaining refreshment, while othershaggled to place bets on the day’s winner. The smells of sugar and alcohol mingled, not unpleasantly, with sun-warmed wood and straw.
Catriona and her mother made their way to a seating area, where they joined Lady Northley, Eliza, and Lady Marchant.
“I fear the smell of the manure is going to make me ill,” Lady Marchant sniffed as she sat down. “As much as I enjoy the liveliness of this event, it is far too pungent!”
Catriona sat down next to Eliza as the girls looked at the magnificent creatures being led to the starting line. Their powerful muscles bunched and flexed beneath coats that shone elegantly.
“I’ve always loved horses,” Eliza said. “Ever since I was a little girl, I just liked to stare at them.”
“Me too,” Catriona agreed. “While I’ve always liked ridin’ them, I’ve often felt like a wild mare meself.”
Catriona considered how she’d fare in a race. What she lacked in speed, she would make up for in heart.
Something about those horses spoke to her, and she longed to run wild as she knew they must.
Across the bustling track, Richard arrived with Lydia, her small hand clutched tightly in his.
The girl looked visibly overwhelmed, her wide eyes darting nervously at the swirling crowd. It was then he realized she had probably never seen so many people in one place in her entire life.
Her new governess, Ms. Meechum, was a prim woman with an excellent work ethic coupled with a perpetually worried expression. She trailed slightly behind as they made their way to meet Lord Arlington.
“I’m so glad you were able to make it,” Lord Arlington said as he cast a wink in Lydia’s direction, to which she gave a sheepish smile. “It’s going to be quite a race, and I’ve put a little money on it to make it interesting.”
“I’m not much for gambling,” Richard said, realizing that he should give in slightly to the levity of the occasion if he were to have success with Arlington. “But I certainly understand the allure.”
“That’s the spirit,” he replied, clapping Richard again on the back. “This will be great fun!”
Lord Arlington guided them towards a slightly elevated area near the judges’ stand. This vantage point would offer a clearer view without the crushing press of the masses.
Richard saw Lydia taking it all in with a large grin on her face. She watched the other attendees, making bets and taking their seats as the race was about to start.
Then, the sharp, metallic crack of the starting gun ripped through the air.
The sound was brutal. Lydia’s small body stiffened in response as he witnessed the breath catching in her throat. She threw her hands over her ears to mute the joyous roar of the crowd, overstimulated after such an intense sound.
He saw her face transform as she looked ahead, as a scene played out in front of her eyes and only she could see it.
The ambush. The unexplainable violence. The gunshots.
