Page 3 of The Scottish Duke Tames the Bluestocking
Harriet scoffed, crossing her arms over her chest. "Well, aren't you just full of wit and charm," she muttered sarcastically, her tone dripping with disdain.
The man chuckled, unfazed by her sharp words. "Aye, that I am," he agreed with a grin. "But it seems I've yet to win over the charming lady before me."
Harriet rolled her eyes, unimpressed by his attempts at flattery. "Oh, spare me the compliments," she retorted. "I highly doubt you're as charming as you think you are."
“Oh, I must say, that no one has ever accused me of being charming. I believe they prefer roguish.” He flashed her a rueful smile and lifted his brows as he looked down at her.
At this, Harriet huffed. “Well, I cannot say that I disagree with them,” she challenged, and he lifted a brow at this.
“Ye are rather outspoken, me lady,” he said, though a laugh was still audible in his tone.
Harriet folded her arms at this, then lifted her chin. “Yes,” she said coldly, her brother’s various admonishments suddenly filling her head.
‘A woman must be silent, Harriet,’William’s voice coursed through her memory and she scowled.
A woman must know her place. A woman must find a good husband. A woman must have children. A woman must respect gentlemen.
“I suppose,” she said now, a dangerous anger taking hold of her, “that you are about to tell me that a woman must know her place and not speak her mind?”
She did not give him the opportunity to answer. Instead, she walked away from him quickly - pushing through the crowds and leaving the frustrating Scotsman behind her. She would pay him no mind, she decided as she moved forward quickly - the echo of his laugh following her as she went.
CHAPTER2
Despite Harriet’s very best intentions to refuse to allow the strange Scotsman to impact any part of her day, she could not get him out of her mind.
There was a scent that drifted from him - something like pinewood and fresh earth. It clung to her nostrils as much as the sound of his laughter kept reverberating in her ears. The man was beyond frustrating, she thought irritably as she lowered her head and made her way forward.
“Harriet!”
The upbeat voice stopped her in her tracks and for the first time since they’d arrived at the ball, a true smile appeared on her face.
“Caroline!”
With no sense of decorum, the two women rushed forward - wrapping their arms around one another in a hug. Harriet beamed as she looked at her friend, her eyes shining.
“You look fantastic,” she declared with a grin. “Where is that husband of yours? I hear around thetonthat the two of you have become quite the social couple.”
Caroline laughed at this and shook her head. “It is nice to get out a bit,” she said with a laugh. “Benedict is with some of the men, talking business of course. You know him. But...”
She reached out and took hold of Harriet’s arm, a frown appearing between her brows. “But what is wrong? Forgive me for asking, but... you are pale as a specter. What on earth happened?”
At this, Harriet let out a frustrated huff and she shook her head. “William, of course,” she announced with a frown. “If he had his way, he would parade me around thetonby hand and plead with every unwed man to marry me.”
Caroline looked at her friend sympathetically. “Is it that bad?”
Harriet nodded at once, her face a mask of misery. “I do not know what it is,” she exclaimed with a frustrated sigh, “but he is desperate to marry me off. And to make matters even worse, I had an awful run-in with a boorish giant of a man.”
Caroline laughed softly at this. “A boorish giant of a man?”
Harriet nodded. “I don’t know who he is,” she said irritably. “But he was filling the entire doorway like a stack of stones and I walked right into him - and of course he was impossibly rude.”
Caroline frowned curiously at this. “Really? What did he look like?”
Harriet shrugged. “I didn’t really pay attention to his appearance,” she said, though her face reddened a little at the lie. “Like I said, he filled the entire doorway with his stature. Dark hair I suppose, blue eyes and a very distinctive accent.”
Caroline laughed, instantly recognizing the description. “That sounds like the Duke of Frighton,” she said with a laugh.
Harriet frowned. “Who?”
