Page 24 of The Scottish Duke Tames the Bluestocking
“Ye all right there, lass? Ye’ve gone awful quiet.”
“Your accent,” she said, grabbing the first thought that popped into her head. “Why does it become more and less pronounced at times?”
Hugh flashed her a rueful smile and sighed. “I grew up in Scotland as a wee lad - but then we moved here... Me faither never really fit in anywhere and I suppose a rebellious side of me clung to the manner of speaking to show thetonI won’t conform to their ideas.”
“I get that,” Harriet said instantly. “I mean... I also feel like I don’t want to conform to the ideas of theton, and yet...”
He sighed. “And yet thetonhas its influence on us, whether we want it to be or nae.”
Their eyes met at that and blood rushed to her cheeks at the way he looked at her. “Well... I suppose I have to accept the utter failure of my grand plan.”
Hugh's brows hiked upwards, curiosity kindling in his gaze. “Oh? And what grand plan might that be?”
She hesitated, worrying her lower lip between her teeth. “To scandalize you with my unladylike behavior,” she admitted at last, feeling a touch foolish in the face of his knowing smirk. “I thought if I could prove myself too wild and uncouth for your tastes, you might... reconsider this whole arrangement.”
To her surprise, Hugh threw back his head and laughed, the rich sound rolling through the night air like distant thunder. “Ah, lass,” he chuckled, shaking his head in rueful amusement. “Ye’ll have to do a sight better than that to scare me off. I'm made of sturdier stuff than yer average dandy.”
Harriet couldn't help but smile at that, a grudging respect kindling in her breast. “So I'm beginning to realize,” she murmured, studying him with a newfound sense of intrigue. He was different than she had expected. Different even than she’d found him to be during their promenade. There was just something about him.
Hugh’s grin turned crooked, his eyes glinting with mischief. “I should hope nae, lass. I've never been one for meetin’ expectations.”
With that, he offered her his arm once more, inclining his head towards the ballroom. “What say we rejoin the festivities, aye? I believe ye still owe me a dance, Lady Harriet.”
Harriet laid her hand on his sleeve, a frisson of anticipation zinging through her veins at the prospect. “Lead the way, Your Grace. Let’s give thetonsomething to really gossip about.”
The ballroom was a sea of swirling skirts and tailcoats as Harriet and Hugh made their way back onto the dance floor. Whispers followed them as they moved towards the dance floor. It was clear that the gathered guests were eager for another glimpse of the unlikely pair who had set the ton's tongues wagging with their earlier display.
As they took their places among the other couples, Harriet felt a flicker of trepidation skitter down her spine. A waltz was a far more intimate dance than the lively reel they had shared before, requiring close proximity and prolonged eye contact. The thought of being held in Hugh's arms, of staring into those fathomless green eyes for the duration of the song, sent a curious flutter through her belly.
The first strains of the music swelled, a dreamy melody that seemed to hang suspended in the air. Hugh’s hand settled at the small of her back, large and warm even through the layers of her gown. Harriet sucked in a sharp breath as he drew her close, until mere inches separated their bodies.
“Relax, lass,” he murmured, his voice a low rumble that seemed to vibrate through her very bones. “I’ve got ye.”
With that, he swept her into the dance, his movements sure and fluid as he guided her across the floor. Once again, Harriet had to admit to herself that the hulking Scot was an exceptional dancer, his steps precise and graceful despite his imposing size. He led her through the turns and spins with effortless mastery, never missing a beat.
As the dance progressed, Harriet found herself becoming lost in the mesmerizing rhythm, the rest of the ballroom fading away until only she and Hugh remained. His gaze held hers captive, blue eyes smoldering with an intensity that stole the breath from her lungs.
By the time the final notes of the waltz trailed away, Harriet was flushed and breathless, her pulse fluttering wildly in her throat. Hugh's expression was inscrutable, but she could have sworn she glimpsed a flicker of answering heat in his eyes before he stepped back and bowed over her hand.
“Thank ye for the dance, Lady Harriet. T’was a true pleasure.” He smiled down at her, and Harriet felt her lips curl into an almost dreamy smile.
She could only nod mutely, her wits scattered to the four winds. She allowed him to escort her from the dance floor, her mind awhirl with a maelstrom of conflicting emotions. Everything about this man confounded her, challenged her preconceived notions and left her floundering in uncharted waters.
As the night wore on, Harriet found herself growing increasingly troubled. By all accounts, Hugh seemed the perfect match for her - a man unafraid of her wild spirit, capable of meeting her wit for wit and holding his own against her tempestuous nature. And yet, a niggling sense of trepidation persisted, an unshakeable unease that coiled in the pit of her stomach.
This sense of worry stayed with her as she awoke the next morning and she walked around the manor like a sprite, unable to find rest. It was Jennifer who made the suggestion after Harriet made her third turn in the drawing-room.
“Goodness, child,” she said, frowning at her daughter worriedly. “Why don’t you visit Caroline? It always lifts your spirits.”
Seeing as Caroline would be leaving the residence soon, it was easy for Harriet to make her way to Yeats Manor. Caroline’s face lit up when she saw her friend, though concern quickly.
“Come in,” she invited her quietly, leading her to the drawing-room. It was only when they were sat down, each with a cup of tea, that Caroline spoke her mind.
“What is it that is the matter, Harriet? You look positively haunted.”
Harriet put down the cup of tea and ran her fingers through her hair with a sigh. “Oh, Caroline I am so confused. Everything seems to be happening so fast and nothing is like I thought it would be and I just... I am so overwhelmed.”
Caorline moved quickly to sit beside her friend and she wrapped an arm around her.
