Page 27 of The Scottish Duke Tames the Bluestocking
“...might be wise to start looking for new positions, just in case. No telling how much longer the Lournes will be able to maintain appearances...”
Harriet felt as though she'd been doused in icy water, the servants' gossipy speculation hitting her like a physical blow. She clutched at her chest, her heart constricting painfully as the full weight of the atrocious misunderstanding crashed over her anew.
Tears of shame and frustration pricked at the corners of her eyes, blurring her vision as she gathered her skirts and fled back towards the house. Her mind raced, self-recrimination and regret dogging her every step. She had to fix this, had to find a way to make things right, not just for herself, but for everyone who relied on the Lourne name.
Her first instinct was to seek out her brother and beg his forgiveness, to prostrate herself before him and plead for his understanding. But even as the impulse seized her, Harriet realized she couldn’t bring herself to do it. Her pride, that ever-present thorn in her side, would not allow her to humble herself so completely, not even in the face of her own folly.
Instead, she squared her shoulders and lifted her chin, a determined glint hardening her gaze. She would go through with the plan to marry Hugh, would bind herself to him in a partnership of necessity and convenience. She would be a paragon of propriety and decorum, would do whatever it took to restore her family's standing in society.
But she would do it on her own terms, without groveling or debasing herself. She was a Lourne, after all, and Lournes did not beg for forgiveness or mercy. They met their challenges head-on, with dignity and resolve.
And so, with a final, fortifying breath, Harriet strode into the house, her purpose clear and her heart steeled for the difficult path ahead. Come what may, she would weather this storm, would emerge stronger and wiser for the trials she'd endured. And she would do it all without sacrificing her essential self, without letting love's fickle whims breach the walls of her carefully guarded heart.
CHAPTER14
The sun was just beginning to dip below the horizon, painting the sky in a palette of muted oranges and pinks, as Hugh strolled through the meticulously manicured gardens of his city manor. The heady perfume of late-blooming roses and honeysuckle hung heavy in the air, a sweet counterpoint to the weight of his thoughts.
He had always found solace in the quiet beauty of nature, a balm for the restless energy that so often thrummed through his veins. But tonight, even the tranquil surroundings could not soothe the tumult of his mind, the swirling uncertainty that had plagued him since his fateful encounter with Harriet Lourne.
The woman was an enigma, a puzzle he could not seem to solve, no matter how he tried. She was fire and ice, passion and reserve, a maddening contradiction that both infuriated and intrigued him in equal measure. And now, he found himself on the brink of binding his life to hers, of forging an unbreakable alliance born of necessity and scandal.
It was not the future he had envisioned for himself, not by any stretch of the imagination. He had always assumed he would marry for practical reasons, to secure an advantageous match that would elevate his family's standing and provide stability for his beloved sister. Love had never factored into the equation, not after the painful lessons of his youth.
But Harriet...she made him question everything he had once held true. She sparked something within him, a fierce, unnamable emotion that defied all reason and logic. And though he knew it was folly, though he knew he should guard his heart against such weakness, he found himself drawn to her like a moth to a flame, helpless to resist the pull of her vibrant spirit. It was not something he’d ever desired - and it was something that made him distinctly uncomfortable.
Lost in his churning thoughts, Hugh did not hear the soft footfalls approaching until a gentle hand touched his arm, startling him from his reverie.
“Hugh? Are you all right?”
He turned to find Abigail beside him, her wide blue eyes filled with concern as she peered up at him. The sight of her, so young and innocent, so untouched by the cruel machinations of society, made his heart constrict painfully in his chest.
“I'm fine, wee one,” he assured her, mustering a smile that felt brittle and false even to his own ears. “Just lost in thought, is all.”
Abigail’s brow furrowed, a stubborn set to her chin that he knew all too well. “Don't try to fool me, brother of mine. I know you far too well to believe you even in the slightest. Something is troubling you, and I want to know what it is. Does it have anything to do with the talk of the servants about a scandal?”
Hugh sighed, running a hand through his hair in a gesture of helpless frustration. He had always tried to shield Abigail from the harsher realities of their life, to preserve her carefree spirit for as long as possible. But he knew she was no longer a child, that she deserved the truth, no matter how unpalatable it might be.
“Very well,” he relented, offering his arm and guiding her to a nearby bench. They sat in silence for a moment, the only sound the gentle rustling of the leaves in the evening breeze. “What is it that ye know of a scandal?”
“I overheard some of the servants talking,” Abigail began hesitantly, her fingers twisting nervously in her lap. “They were whispering about a scandal, about how you had been caught in a compromising position with a young lady. Is it true, Hugh? Are you in some kind of trouble? Is it the woman you asked to marry?”
Hugh closed his eyes briefly, a wave of weariness washing over him. He had hoped to keep the sordid details from his sister, to spare her the gossip and speculation that was sure to follow. But it seemed the rumors had already begun to spread, and he knew he could not leave her in the dark any longer.
“Yes. It is her,” he admitted heavily, his voice low and strained. “There was an incident at the season’s first ball, a misunderstandin' that has been blown wildly out of proportion. I was on the balcony with Lady Harriet Lourne, and we were seen in what appeared to be a compromisin' embrace by some of the other guests. It was ridiculous and not at all an embrace, but you know theton...”
Abigail's eyes widened, her hand flying to her mouth in shock. “Oh, Hugh...what are you going to do? Surely there must be some way to explain, to set the record straight?”
Hugh shook his head grimly, a bitter laugh escaping his lips. “If only it were that simple, lass. But you know as well as I do how unforgiving thetoncan be, how eager they are to seize upon any hint of impropriety and use it to destroy those they deem unworthy.”
He took a deep breath, steeling himself for the words he knew he must say. “There is only one way to salvage the situation, to protect Lady Harriet's reputation and our own. I must marry her, Abigail. I must make her me wife and put an end to the scandal before it can take root and fester.”
Abigail gasped, her eyes filling with tears as she clutched at his arm. “No, Hugh! I cannot and will not ever expect that of you. Her reputation is not yours to be concerned about and ours does not matter.”
Hugh gathered her into his embrace, stroking her hair with a gentleness that belied his inner turmoil. “Shh, wee one. It's all right. I'm nae sacrificing anythin', nae really. Lady Harriet is a fine woman, a strong and spirited lass who will make a worthy partner. And if marryin' her is what it takes to keep ye safe, to ensure that yer prospects are nae tainted by association, then I will do it gladly and without regret.”
Abigail pulled back, her face shining with naivety and her eyes wide with the innocence of one who had not yet experienced heartache. “But what about love, Hugh? What about finding a woman who makes your heart sing, who fills your days with joy and laughter? Surely you deserve that, after all you've been through?”
Hugh sighed, a wistful smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. “Ah, lass. Ye've always been a romantic soul, havenae ye? But love is a luxury I cannae afford, nae with so much at stake. Me duty is to me family, to ye and to the Frighton name. And if that means enterin' into a marriage of convenience, then so be it.”
