Page 31 of Claiming His Scottish Duchess
“Please, Eliza. Let them be. Dinnae intervene on me behalf, it will only fuel their spite. I cannae stand any more unpleasantness.”
“It makes me so angry, the way they treat you so. It’s like I always tell you, they are just jealous of your fire. You are worth ten of them, my friend. I mean it with all my heart.”
While she shook her head in understanding, it took everything Catriona had not to cover her ears and run. Even with Eliza there, she could not sustain their comments and the pressure of finding a match.
I cannae breathe.
Catriona paused, her gaze sweeping over the crowd as she turned back to Eliza and offered a small smile. “I… I need a moment. The air feels a bit stiflin’ in here.”
“I couldn’t agree more, let me join you. I’ll tell Mama we need to take a turn about the grounds,” she suggested as she offered to usher Catriona to the gardens.
Catriona could only feel the whispers grow at Eliza’s kind intervention, becoming more of a spectacle as her inadequacies as a social lady became evident. She could not afford a misstep.
“Much as I appreciate yer offer, I just need a moment. Enjoy the party. I’ll return soon,” she said as she slunk away, desperatelyseeking a brief respite from the suffocating atmosphere of society.
“Your Grace! We are so glad you could make it! And the charming Lady Lydia! You are both most welcome!” Arlington called to Lydia and Richard as they entered the party, his face beaming as he rushed to greet them.
Richard offered a curt nod. “Thank you for the invitation,” he said, the sincerity in his voice putting a smile on Lord Arlington’s face.
As he offered the usual niceties to Lydia, Richard scanned the crowd. His eyes involuntarily searching for Catriona, wondering if she was there. He hadn’t seen her at the intermission or after last week’s performance.
He tried to suppress the unwelcome flutter in his chest as he focused again on the present conversation and what he could ascertain from Arlington and his connections that day.
“Come, come,” Arlington boomed, clapping Richard on the back in a way that was becoming familiar. “Let me introduce you to some of the finest company in London!”
He steered them towards a group of lords and ladies, their faces etched with the familiar arrogance of the elite.
Richard forced a smile as introductions were made, knowing that he would only be able to succeed if he were to play the game. Lydia remained close to Richard, almost attached to his side, as her eyes grew wide and wary with the onslaught of pleasantries.
“Lord Breecher, Lady Clambly, allow me to present the Duke of Wilthorne and his niece, Lady Lydia. A most astute businessman who needs no introduction, and his delightful young ward.”
“Nice to make your acquaintance, young lady,” Lady Clambly said to the girl in a sing-song voice more suitable for an infant or puppy than someone of Lydia’s age.
It was then that more gazes turned to Lydia, curiosity sharp and invasive. Richard realized that only a small few had met her, and only in passing. She was a novelty.
“Such a quiet child,” another woman remarked as she shouldered up to the group, her tone laced with a hint of condescension. “Has a cat got your tongue, young lady?”
“Indeed,” Lord Breecher added as his eyes narrowed in on her. “Is she unwell? I hope she is not ill. Is it contagious?”
“My niece is perfectly well, I can assure you. She is merely reserved,” Richard said as he punctuated the thought, his protective instincts flaring as he wished he could smash the champagne glasses clutched in their puny hands.
As soon as I can find an appropriate lull in this pointless conversation, we will circulate this cursed party. Surely this is not the type of fruitful conversation that lured me here.
“Why… she truly hasn’t said a single word since we arrived,” Lady Clambly nattered on, her voice carrying a hint of speculation, as she was unwilling to drop the subject. “Now, why is that?”
“Pardon me, I have spotted an acquaintance I must greet. If you’ll all kindly excuse us…” he stated as he tried to steer Lydia away, no longer willing to wait for a polite exit.
“Perhaps she’s just a shy one, Lady Clambly!” Lord Breecher suggested as he knelt to meet Lydia’s gaze. He finished his glass of champagne in a single gulp. “Come now, little one, surely you can say good afternoon?”
“Step back,” Richard said coolly, his voice low and edged with steel. “You’re crowding her.” He didn’t raise his voice, but the warning in his tone was unmistakable—quiet, firm, and wholly unbending.
Lady Clambly joined Lord Breecher, kneeling beside him in front of Lydia and ignoring Richard’s request.
“Can you say your name, little dear?” she asked slowly. “Lydia! Say ‘Lydia’.”
Lydia shrank against Richard, her small body now trembling at their persistence. The relentless probing and suffocating attention were proving too much for her, and Richard was running out of patience for their cruel games as the muscles in his shoulders tightened.
Lydia looked up at him with pleading eyes as he took his cue. He steadied her to make their way away from the prying eyes of Lord Breecher, Lady Clambly, and the other onlookers.
