Page 25 of Claiming His Scottish Duchess
All she could think was how she needed him as a part of her, to claim her, to find herself lost in the sea of him.
She couldn’t see through the tempest of feelings that swept around her, as so many of them were new or mere fantasies before this moment?—
Suddenly, a faint rustle sounded nearby, and their spell was abruptly shattered by the intrusion.
The duke pulled away, and they both turned to see a stable boy passing by with a large bale of hay in his hands.
His eyes were wide with shock, and also embarrassment, as he cast them quickly to the ground and rounded the corner to his destination.
He attempted to stammer an apology, his face flushed crimson, when he changed course and practically fled back into the shadows. The poor lad had disappeared as quickly as he had appeared.
Catriona, her breath coming in soft gasps, slowly pulled back from him as she fought to regain her senses in a losing battle.
They were lucky it was just a stable boy who did not know who they were.
Her eyes searched the duke’s face. He still held an unreadable intensity, as if he were looking to memorize her features.
Coming back to reality, he released his grip on her.
Without a word or backward glance, he turned and strode away from the scene, disappearing into the mess of racegoers.
Catriona was left breathless, shaken, and bewildered in the silence of the stables.
She stood there in what she could only imagine was shock. She felt her heart hammering against her ribs and down between her legs. She lifted a hand to her lips, which were still tingling with the imprint of his eager kiss.
What just happened?
She had never been kissed with such raw intensity. In fact, she had never been kissed at all.
And this kiss… it had such unrestrained passion. It was a kiss that had shaken her to her very core.
She looked around the shadowed stables, her eyes searching for a glimpse of his retreating figure, even though she knew that he was gone.
Chapter Nine
“Is ann ainneamh a thig a’ chailleach mhaol gu fèill.” The bald old woman rarely comes to the fair.
“And then, Mrs. Henry told me her young cousin started carrying on in secret… with the vicar! It was after bible tutelage, at her mother’s suggestion. Her chaperone frequently excused herself from what I heard, thinking she would be safe given the company!” Lady Marchant explained, her voice a high-pitched trill to cut through the mass of people at the track, as they all anticipated the next race.
“I cannae imagine how the girl’s mother must feel at her compromise,” Lady Craigleith replied, shaking her head in horror. “And just before her debut.”
“I don’t know how they’ve managed to keep it from getting out, so you can’t say a word,” Lady Marchant whispered as she fanned herself. “They would know that it came from me, andI have a reputation as a steel trap. But can you imagine the scandal? A young lady and a married man!”
“Indeed. Quite surprising for someone of her breedin’ and social standin’,” Lady Craigleith agreed, considering the severity of the day’s gossip. “I shudder at the thought!”
“Indeed!” Lady Marchant agreed, her eyes twinkling as she was clearly considering the unseemly details. “Just yesterday, I?—”
“Good day, ladies,” the duke said in greeting, his voice cutting through the crowd in a deep rumble as he approached them.
Amused at having walked in on a most titillating conversation, as he rarely engaged in frivolous gossip, he could not prevent a knowing smirk from crossing his face.
“Might my niece and I join you? Our usual box appears to be… indisposed,” he offered, knowing well he could not divulge the true reason for his intrusion.
Lady Marchant’s fan fluttered even more wildly as she sought to compose herself, her bosom jiggling as if a seagull was trying to fly out of her corset.
“Yer Grace! By all means!” Lady Craigleith offered quickly on their behalf, equally flustered and patting the empty spaces beside them. “We would be most honored, Yer Grace. Me daughter, Catriona, is here with us. She stepped away for just a moment! She would be most delighted to see ye,” sheemphasized, no doubt recalling their dancing just a few days ago at Lord Hargrave’s ball.
In the daylight, Richard noted the resemblance between mother and daughter. While few could compare to Catriona’s unique presence, they shared the same expressive chestnut eyes, accentuated by long black lashes.
