Page 39 of Claiming His Scottish Duchess
It was a brilliant idea.
It was a terrible idea.
It was a brilliantlyterribleidea.
For one, they could barely tolerate each other. Yet, he was offering her a lifeline when she desperately needed one, a chance to save everything she held dear.
I cannae afford to refuse.
“Very well, Yer Grace,” she said, her voice steady despite the turmoil that brewed deep within her.
He met her gaze with his steely blue eyes, weakening her knees and quickening her pulse.
“I accept yer proposal.”
Chapter Thirteen
“Èist ri gaoth nam beann gus an traogh na h-uisgeachan.” Listen to the wind upon the hill till the waters abate.
“I pronounce that they be man and wife together, in the Name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Ghost. Amen.”
Five days had passed, a mere handful of sunrises and sunsets since the scandalous whispers at Lord Harrington’s ball threatened to tear Catriona’s life—and her heart—to shreds. Yet, her entire life had irrevocably shifted with those two little words.
Marry me.
The wedding was a modest yet elegant affair, befitting their station but devoid of excess. Catriona wore a gown of ivory muslin, the high waistline trimmed with delicate lace and a ribbon of pale blue silk. Her dark hair was swept into a refinedchignon, with a fine gauze veil fastened by a cluster of ivory roses.
The duke stood tall beside her, his coat of deep navy cut to perfection, a subtle sprig of myrtle pinned to his lapel to match the blooms in her modest posy.
The ceremony was held in the hushed sanctity of a private chapel, tucked away in the outskirts of London. The small gathering of witnesses stood as stiffly as the carved angels in the stained-glass windows, watching the couple before them.
Lady Craigleith stood by Lady Marchant, her face etched with a relief that did not quite resonate with Catriona. Lord and Lady Northley were also in attendance with Eliza, her eyes brimming with a quiet support that warmed Catriona’s chilled heart as she looked at her.
Lydia, in the most beautiful white gown, stood silently, clutching a small bouquet of white roses. Lord Hargrave stood near her as Richard’s closest friend to complete the somber tableau.
There were no joyous rings of bells, no celebratory toasts with heartfelt sentiments, nor any tender glances exchanged at the altar between husband and wife. The vows were spoken clearly, if not warmly, the exchange of rings a cool formality. When the brief ceremony concluded, a hesitant trickle of congratulations followed.
Lady Craigleith’s composure finally cracked as she approached the newlywed couple, tears welling in her eyes with every step.She reached out for the duke’s hand, her grip surprisingly firm as she shook it.
“Your Grace,” she choked out, her voice thick with the emotion she had worked so hard to suppress. “Thank ye, sincerely. Thank ye. Thank ye for everythin’. For taking care of me daughter, for thinkin’ of our home in Scotland and all that it means…”
The duke, visibly uncomfortable with the public display, responded with a stiff nod and released his hand from her grip.
“It was a … practical arrangement, Lady Craigleith. But I am happy that I can be of service to my wife’s family.”
Lady Craigleith then turned to her daughter, her hand cupping Catriona’s cheek gently.
“Yer faither,” she whispered, her voice trembling as she closed her eyes. “He would have been so proud of yer strength, me love. I dinnae say it enough, but I am proud of the woman ye are—fire and all.”
Catriona swallowed hard, fighting back the tears that threatened to spill. “Thank ye, Maither.”
“I shall stay with Lady Marchant for a while longer before returnin’ to Scotland once all of the particulars are settled,” her mother continued, her gaze filled with concern. “Should ye need me.”
Catriona tried to remember a time she had been away from her mother for an extended period, just now realizing that this was a fork in the road for their journey together. It was time for her to make her own way.
“Duchess. It is time we departed,” the duke said as he held her gaze, breaking her from the moment as she considered the new road ahead for her.
Catriona squeezed her mother’s hand as she kissed her goodbye. “Goodbye, Maither.”
