Page 18 of The Scottish Duke Tames the Bluestocking
Even as she spoke the words, fear threatened to consume Harriet. What if, she could not help but think, they learned that they truly did not possess the inability to get along? Would she be faced with the rest of her life on Aunt Mildred’s estate? The thought was nearly too much to bear, and she reached for her mother’s hand in a quiet request for support.
Hugh still did not say anything. He merely looked at her, his eyes narrowed and the faintest shadow of a smile playing around his lips. Harriet swallowed nervously, forcing herself to look at him and remain steadfast in her suggestion.
It was Jennifer who broke the silence, pointing at a rose bush nearby. “Oh, is that not lovely?” she said loudly, making her way towards the roses quickly - Harriet and Hugh in tow.
Only after a few seconds of staring at the flowers did Hugh speak.
“All right,” he let out with a grunt. “It may be an... unorthodox bargain and I admit that I am nae used to being challenged in the least, but...” he sighed and shook his head. “I’ll admit, ‘tis nae without a certain practicality. Seven days.”
Harriet turned to face him and he smiled - though she could not help but think that it looked as though the motion pained him. “Seven days to suss out whether this is a path that can be traversed without us coming to outright blows.”
Harriet nodded, a stiff grin forming around her own lips. At least, she mused quietly, he was willing to compromise. To listen to her. That already proved that all was not entirely lost - that perhaps, a marriage to him would not be the worst thing in the world.
“Very well then,” Harriet said briskly, favoring the dour Scot with a smile of polite beneficence. “Shall we continue on our promenade, Your Grace? Perhaps it will be the first step towards getting to know one another.”
Hugh inclined his head in a shallow bow of acquiescence. “After ye, Lady Harriet.” As she swept past him towards another row of flowers, his low rumble caressed her senses with indecent intimacy. “I fear I must warn ye, my lady...”
Harriet came to a halt and turned to look at him, her brows lifted. “Yer reputation,” he said at last. “I believe that... we must...”
He looked around uncomfortably. All around them, people were staring and he gestured towards them with a sigh.
“Ye see we are already rather widely discussed. I fear that ye must know... Despite me title, I am nae the most...”
He sighed deeply.
“I daenae know that an association with me will be the best idea for yer reputation, I am afraid. I must admit...”
Harriet stepped forward firmly and searched his eyes, her face earnest.
“Your Grace,” she spoke, her voice clear. “I suggest you mind your reputation, and I will mind my own.”
Hugh’s laugh rumbled through his chest and soon a soft laugh bubbled up from Harriet's throat as well. Fine lines appeared next to his eyes as he looked down at her. “Charming, me lady,” he teased with a low chuckle - forcibly reminding Harriet of how that rich, gruff laughter managed to stir her senses in a most unsettling fashion.
Shaking her head as if to physically dislodge such a discomfiting notion, she straightened her shoulders and led the way into the spring sunshine—her mother's soft laughter trailing them like a soothing balm in her wake.
As the unlikely trio set out on their promenade through the verdant pathways winding around the Hyde Park, Harriet braced herself for an almost oppressive silence. Hugh did not seem the sort to engage in idle chitchat, and she herself had no intention of prompting needless conversation just to fill the void with prattle.
Instead, she focused her senses outward, basking in the gentle beauty of nature as a welcome distraction. The heady perfumes of new blossoms perfumed the crisp breeze with a rich, floral sweetness, songbirds warbling their joyous melodies from the budding branches overhead. Despite the weight of tensions still lurking beneath the surface, Harriet felt herself relaxing by infinitesimal degrees with each passing stride.
It was her mother, ever the gracious hostess, who eventually put an end to the silence.
“It’s beautiful, this park,” Jennifer said, then looked at Harriet. “Your father brought me here quite often.”
Her gaze shifted to Hugh, whose lips were pursed. He did not notice, Harriet thought, the beauty of the park around them. Instead, he kept his gaze straight ahead.
“I met your parents here too, Your Grace,” Jennifer spoke softly and Hugh turned quickly to face her. She flashed him a gentle smile. “The love between them was truly something to behold.”
“Yes,” Hugh stuttered, his gaze wavering as he blinked quickly. “Yes, it was,” he said, his voice soft.
Jennifer shot Harriet a stern look and the latter hastened her steps to walk next to Hugh, her mind empty as she searched for any form of conversation.
“The park is beautiful,” she said at last and Hugh looked at her with a frown. She laughed softly and shook her head. “Your Grace,” she explained softly. “I do believe we need to at least attempt to have a conversation if we are going to get to know each other,” she explained and the man sighed.
“Yes,” he agreed at last, and a deep laughter rumbled from him. “The park is rather beautiful indeed.”
Harriet’s clear laughter rang through the park and Hugh looked at her, almost somewhat surprised. Noticing the look on his face, Harriet looked at him through narrowed eyes.
“What is the matter, Your Grace?”
