Page 73 of Claiming His Scottish Duchess
Wilthorne eventually disappeared entirely as they were swallowed by the thick trees of the wood. After several more paces, Lord Mortridge finally began to slow his pace as they finally stopped. He turned to face Catriona.
“Do ye really wish to paint yer hands with blood again, Lord Mortridge?” Catriona asked, her voice steady despite the fear that clawed at her throat.
She met his gaze unflinchingly, her Highland spirit refusing to yield. It was then that the wind picked up behind her, blowing her long locks in the wind as she faced him. She would not let this man win, not without a proper fight.
A slow, chilling smirk spread across Lord Mortridge’s face. He began to clap slowly, as one would at the theater.
“Clever girl, aren’t you, Your Grace? Too clever, I’m afraid.”
“I will nae bow down to a coward like ye,” she said as she held tight to Lydia’s hand.
“Yes, it is a pity about the child, but… when it comes to matters like this, all loose ends must be tied. I wish there was another way, but sadly, there is not.”
He took a step closer, his hand inching towards the pistol at his waist.
“It would be simple, you see. An unfortunate accident. A walk in the woods gone terribly wrong. No one would question it. Your husband has many enemies, unlike his brother. That was a bit tougher, a bit more grease needed to be used on that one. But no one—no one—would question this. You should hear the scene he caused in London, assaulting men of influence.”
“Lies!” Catriona yelled, not wanting to hear ill of her husband, absent as he may be at this pivotal moment. “I dinnae want to hear ye speak ill of him.”
“Very well, we will get on with it,” he said as he shrugged his shoulders.
Without hesitation, Catriona stepped directly in front of Lydia, then, shielding the child with her own body, a fierce protectiveness surging through her.
If only I had me faither’s pistol with me this time,Catriona cursed as she pictured it in her dressing case, sitting there useless.I didnae think I would need it on these lands and now look at us!
“Ye will nae touch her,” Catriona yelled, her voice ringing with the strength and tenacity of a warrior. “Ye will have to go through me first, ye coward.”
Lord Mortridge laughed, a harsh, grating sound that echoed through the quiet woods.
“Brave words, albeit foolish ones.” His fingers tightened around the butt of the pistol as he held it up in the air. “Don’t be foolish. Step aside. Now.”
Catriona stood her ground, her eyes locked on his.
“I will protect her with me life.”
“So be it then.”
Chapter Twenty-Nine
“Innsidh na geòidh as t-fhoghar e.” The geese will tell it in autumn.
“Where is my wife, and where is Lydia?” With each passing moment, Richard’s worry grew stronger as he knew in his heart that something was desperately wrong.
The thunder of hooves against the gravel had shattered the afternoon quiet of Wilthorne as Richard arrived in a furious rush. He dismounted before his horse had fully come to a halt, tossing the reins haphazardly to a startled stable hand. He ran from the stables to the front door, as he burst into the grand hall.
But what?
“They took a walk in the gardens, Your Grace. Just the two of them. Lady Eliza was having a bath. I believe she is in her quarters,” Mrs. Jennings offered politely.
“Lady Eliza?”
“Yes, Lady Eliza has paid a visit upon Her Grace. You did not know?”
“Of course I did, it slipped my mind,” he said, recovering. “When did they leave?
“They must be having a grand time, they left quite a while ago, come to think of it,” Mr. Johnstone offered. He raised a brow, no doubt trying to discern the source of the duke’s agitated state.
Richard’s blood ran cold.
