Page 30 of Claiming His Scottish Duchess
“It’s… it’s from the heir,” she said.
Her mother’s voice was thin, laced with a tremor that sent a chill down Catriona’s spine.
The heir.
Her distant cousin, James, held the fate of their ancestral home in his hands. It wastheirhome. So much more than just bricks and mortar, Craigleith Hall was the last standing embodiment of her father. It was the one place his presence lingered in every corner.
“What does he say?” Catriona asked, her voice barely a whisper as she lifted herself out of the covers and to her feet.
“He’s received an offer. A most generous offer, he says. He’s considering selling the estate.” Her mother’s eyes filled with tears, refusing to shed them.
Sellin’ the estate? It’s unthinkable. Aye, I need to think. The thought of strangers wanderin’ through faither’s study… another family’s laughter echoin’ in the halls where we used to dine… it is unbearable.
“Nae,” Catriona breathed, her voice gaining strength as she considered a plan. “He cannae. He mustnae.”
“It’s within his rights, me dear. The estate is his now,” she sighed, her shoulders slumping as she sat heavily on the bed.
Desperation clawed at Catriona as she began to pace. She could not let this happen. She would not let this happen.
“There must be somethin’ we can do,” she insisted, her heart racing as the wheels in her mind began to turn. “We need to secure our future. We need to… to find a solution.”
Her mother looked at her, a flicker of hope in her weary eyes. “What do ye suggest, Catriona? You havenae exactly made a proper match, unless there is somethin’ ye’ve been waitin’ to tell me… and for god’s sake, lass?—”
“I’ll secure a proposal, Maither,” she said with a hardened gaze, filled with a newfound determination. “A proposal from a man of means, a man who can help us keep our home. I promise ye, Maither. I willnae let us lose it.”
“Do you think she rides bareback?” one guest whispered to another as Catriona made her way about the garden party.
“Her hair is surely as untamed as if she just took a ride,” one whispered as Catriona pressed a hand to her chest, willing the whispers to cease.
“On a horse or a man, who is to say?” They snickered.
A week had passed when Catriona found herself at Lord Arlington’s party, buzzing with the requisite frivolity of such gatherings.
The sounds of laughter and social scheming, string music, and the clinking of champagne glasses filled her ears. While she loathed such events, Catriona was lucky that she, her mother, and Lady Marchant were invited to such given her urgent quest.
Secure a proposal.
“Eliza!” Catriona called out as she saw her friend arrive with Lady Northley, forcing her voice to sound brighter than she felt, as she walked hurriedly toward her. “Aye, it’s good to see a friendly face here. Ye may as well be the Fairie Flag of Dunvegan!”
Eliza offered a sympathetic smile and a tender embrace. “It is nice to see you too, Catriona. Though I must say, this gathering seems particularly prickly today. I wish people would keep their unpleasant and unfounded thoughts to themselves.”
Catriona sighed, as she could sense that Eliza had heard the whispers. “It’s always the same for me, unfortunately, following me like a dark cloud wherever I go. Aye, me and my unwaverin’ Scottishness, I suppose. These polite folk relish in their cruelty.”
“They are fools for not seeing you as I do,” Eliza declared fiercely. “You are worth ten of them. They are just jealous of your lively beauty. I know I envy you, most lovingly of course,” she said, giving her hand a tight squeeze.
Catriona managed a weak nod at her friend’s compliment. She knew that she meant it. “Thank ye, Eliza. Yer friendship is truly appreciated. I dinnae ken what I would do without it.”
Somehow, the volume in the room seemed to increase exponentially, and Catriona could feel her heartbeat pounding in her head. The room started to spin right as the whispers around seemed to pick up in haste.
As if on cue, Lady Abigail approached her with her gaggle of followers. They eyed Catriona up and down, as if assessing a piece of meat at the market, and not a human being.
“You seem quite unwell, Lady Catriona,” she offered. “Perhaps the English weather does not agree with your constitution. It may be best if you gathered your belongings and returned home.”
There willnae be a home for me much longer. In Scotland, or anywhere else.
“You… Oh!” Eliza grunted quietly as the ladies stifled their laughter as they walked away.
“Someone ought to teach those girls some manners,” Eliza said to their backs as they walked away, loud enough so they could hear. “There is nothing polite or delicate about their cruel hearts. In fact, I think I will walk right over and do just that.”
