Page 2 of The Scottish Duke Tames the Bluestocking
This, of course, irked Harriet even more and she watched, aghast, as the irritable brother disappeared to make space for the paragon of charm and delight. She stepped out of the carriage with a deep sigh, her eyes following her brother.
“Good day, Lord Silverwood,” he exclaimed upon seeing an elderly gentleman - and soon he was swallowed by the crowd, though his laughter still drifted in her direction every so often.
Harriet scowled at his back and Jennifer reached out to take her daughter’s hand, giving it a comforting squeeze.
“My darling,” she started hesitantly. “I know that William’s ways are not easy to understand,” she said and Harriet shook her head, angry tears brimming behind her eyelids. She looked at her mother desperately.
“Mother... Is... is this what you want for me?”
Jennifer laid a gentle hand against her daughter’s cheek and shook her head. “My darling,” she said softly. “All I want for you is happiness. And yes, perhaps your brother is... wound a little tightly, but...”
Harriet looked at Jennifer pleadingly and the latter flashed her a melancholic smile.
“Perhaps it is not the worst event to attend,” Jennifer finally said with a soft laugh. “You might end up enjoying it - like your brother!”
Jennifer gestured to where William stood surrounded by other men and she flashed her daughter a smile before making her own way through the crowd as well. For a while, Harriet could only stare at William.
Here, between his peers, he was the picture of joy and friendliness - nothing like the coldness he showed her or their mother.
As she moved towards the manor, her frustration bubbled like a pot about to boil over. “Fool,” she grumbled. “Absolute dimwitted...”
Lost in her internal tirade, she failed to notice the approaching gentleman until she collided with him with a force that nearly sent her stumbling backward.
"Oi, watch where you're going!" she exclaimed, her irritation ringing clear in her voice.
Looking up to deliver a scathing retort, she found herself staring into a pair of striking green eyes, their intensity momentarily stealing her words.
The man, a towering figure with a commanding presence, arched an eyebrow in mild amusement. "Are you all right, lass?" he asked in a thick Scottish accent, his voice surprisingly gentle despite the unfortunate collision.
Harriet blinked, taken aback by the unexpected kindness. "I-I'm fine," she stammered, regaining her composure. “Mostly. You are quite the block of a man.”
He nodded, a faint smile quirking the corners of his lips. "I apologize for that. No worries for walkin’ right into me. It happens to the best of us. Just mind your step next time, eh?"
Harriet, still reeling from the unexpected encounter, refused to let the gentleman slip away so easily. As he attempted to excuse himself and move on, she reached out to stop him, her irritation boiling over.
"You can't just walk away after nearly knocking me over!" she snapped, her tone sharp with indignation.
He turned back to her, a bemused expression playing across his features. "I dinnae mean to startle ye, lass," he replied, his Scottish brogue softening the edge of his words.
Harriet's temper flared at his calm demeanor, his earlier admonishment fueling her frustration. "Startle me? Startle me?!" she repeated incredulously, her voice rising in pitch. "If anyone should be startled, it's me! You're the one who was practically blocking the entire doorway!"
He chuckled softly at her outburst, his amusement evident in the twinkle of his green eyes. "Aye, I suppose I am a bit on the tall side," he admitted, his tone light.
Harriet bristled at his nonchalant response, her patience wearing thin. "Well, perhaps you should try being less tall then!" she retorted scathingly, her hands gesturing emphatically.
He raised an eyebrow, a hint of amusement still lingering in his gaze. "And how, pray tell, am I to accomplish that?" he asked, a playful glint in his eye.
Harriet narrowed her eyes at him, her frustration reaching its peak. "I don't know, maybe stop growing like a beanstalk!" she shot back, her words dripping with sarcasm.
He chuckled again, a deep rumble of laughter that seemed to fill the space between them. "Well, lass, I'll keep that in mind for next time," he replied with a grin, his good humor seemingly unshakeable.
This frustrated Harriet even more. How dare he find it funny? Could this man not see the absurdity of the situation? She glared up at him, irritation growing within her when she saw the humored smile playing around his lips.
“Do you laugh about everything?” she shot now, her eyes blazing.
She crossed her arms over her chest as she looked up at him, craning her neck to make out his face. He was, she had to admit despite herself, not at all ugly. There was something quite handsome about the particular shade of his eyes and the curve of his lips. This only angered her more.
"I suppose it depends on the situation," he replied with a playful wink, his smile never faltering.
