Page 47 of The Scottish Duke Tames the Bluestocking
“Harriet,” he said abruptly, his voice rough with emotion as he turned to face her fully. “I... I need to say something, need to clear the air between us before we arrive at the ball.”
Harriet’s eyes widened, her lips parting in surprise as she stared up at him. “What is it, Hugh?” she asked, her voice trembling slightly. “What’s wrong?”
Hugh took a deep breath, steeling himself for the words he knew he had to say. “I know that this marriage... that our situation... is nae what ye wanted, nae what ye hoped for when ye dreamed of yer future. I know that ye regret tying yerself to me, that ye wish ye could be free to follow yer own path, to live your life on yer own terms.”
Harriet opened her mouth to protest, but Hugh held up a hand, silencing her with a gentle shake of his head. “Please, let me finish. I... I see the way ye avoid me, Harriet. The way ye keep yer distance, even when we're in the same room. And I understand, truly I do. I know that I'm nae the man you would have chosen for yerself, that our marriage is a burden ye never asked to bear.”
He swallowed hard, his throat tight with emotion as he forced himself to continue. “But I want ye to know that... that ye daenae have to keep avoidin' me, Harriet. That ye daenae have to force yerself to endure my presence, I will do what I can to make it easier for ye.”
Harriet stared at him, her eyes wide and stricken, as though she couldn't quite believe what she was hearing. “Hugh, I... I don’t understand. What are you saying?”
Hugh sighed, his shoulders slumping with the weight of his own resignation. “I’m saying that... that I think it would be best if I left for a while, Harriet. If I went to the estate, to see to some business there and give ye some space, some time to yerself.”
He saw the flash of shock that crossed her face, the way her lips parted in a silent gasp of surprise. But he forced himself to press on, to say the words that he knew would break his own heart even as they set her free.
“Ye daenae have to come with me, Harriet. Ye can stay here, in London, for as long as ye like. I... I willnae force my presence on you, willnae make ye endure a life ye never wanted. This marriage... it doesnae have to be a prison, doesnae have to be a source of misery and regret. We can... we can find a way to make it work, to build a life together that is comfortable and easy, even if it isnae the grand passion ye once dreamed of.”
Harriet was silent for a long moment, her face a mask of conflicting emotions as she stared at him. And then, slowly, she reached out and placed her hand on his arm, her touch feather-light and hesitant.
“Hugh,” she started, but her courage faded. “You... you don’t have to feel as though I am chasing you from the manor,” she settled, but he shook his head.
“Ye daenae have to say anything, Harriet,” he said softly, his voice gentle but firm. “I know that this isnae...that it isnae what ye wanted. And I willnae hold ye to a life ye never chose, to a future ye never asked for. Ye deserve far more than being caged, lass.”
Harriet's eyes widened at his words, a flicker of something that looked almost like hope sparking in their green depths. But before she could speak, before she could give voice to the thoughts that swirled behind her eyes...the carriage came to a halt, the sound of voices and laughter filtering through the closed doors.
Hugh straightened his shoulders, his jaw clenching with resolve as he prepared to face the glittering throng that awaited them. “We’re here,” he said softly, his voice steady despite the turmoil that raged within him. “Are ye ready, Harriet?”
She nodded, her face pale but determined as she took his arm and allowed him to help her down from the carriage. And as they made their way up the steps and into the ballroom, as they were swept up in the whirl of music and conversation and sparkling laughter... Hugh couldn't help but feel a pang of regret, a bitter sense of loss for the future he had once dared to imagine.
But he pushed it down, buried it deep beneath the mask of polite civility and easy charm that he had learned to wear like a second skin. He would play his part, would dance and smile and make polite conversation with the glittering throng that surrounded them.
And tomorrow... tomorrow he would leave. Even if it meant breaking his own heart in the process.
So, he flashed her a stiff smile and held his arm out to her.
“Let us spend tonight smilin' at theton,” he insisted softly. “And we shall handle tomorrow as it comes.”
CHAPTER26
As Hugh and Harriet entered the ballroom, a hush fell over the gathered crowd, the air thick with surprise and speculation. It was highly unusual for the Duke of Frighton to attend a ball - especially with the scandal that had led to his marriage so fresh in everyone’s minds.
Whispers began to circulate through the room, the rustling of fans and the low murmur of gossip filling the air like a swarm of angry bees. Harriet could feel the weight of their stares, the judgment and condemnation that radiated from every corner of the room.
But she held her head high, her hand resting lightly on Hugh's arm as they made their way through the crowd. She would not let them see her discomfort, would not give them the satisfaction of knowing that their whispers and stares had hit their mark.
As they approached the refreshment table, Harriet's heart sank as she caught sight of Lady Granfouly, the old woman's face pinched with disapproval as she watched them approach. She had always been one of the most vocal critics of their marriage, had made no secret of her disdain for the scandal that had brought them together.
“Well, well, well,” Lady Granfouly said, her voice dripping with scorn as they drew near. “If it isn't the newlyweds, gracing us with their presence. How very... unexpected.”
Harriet bristled at the old woman's tone, her fingers tightening instinctively around Hugh's arm. She wanted to lash out, to put the old biddy in her place and remind her of just who she was talking to. But she knew that it would only make things worse, would only give the gossips more fodder for their wagging tongues.
And so she bit her tongue, forcing a smile to her lips as she inclined her head in a polite nod. “Lady Granfouly,” she said, her voice cool and measured. “How lovely to see you again.”
But Hugh, it seemed, had no such reservations. He stepped forward, his eyes flashing with barely contained anger as he stared down at the old woman. “Is there somethin' ye’d like to say, Lady Granfouly?” he asked, his voice low and dangerous. “Somethin' ye’d like to share with the rest of the room?”
Lady Granfouly’s eyes widened, her face flushing with indignation at his tone. But she lifted her chin, her gaze defiant as she met his stare. “As a matter of fact, there is,” she said, her voice ringing out clear and sharp. “It's one thing to cause a scandal, to bring shame and disgrace upon your names with your...your loose behavior. But to flaunt it in front of all of society, to attend a ball when the ink on your marriage license is barely dry... it's a clear indication of just what kind of marriage this is. One built on money and loose morals, nothing more.”
Harriet felt her cheeks burn with shame and anger, her heart pounding in her chest as she listened to the old woman's tirade. She wanted to defend herself, to tell Lady Granfouly just how wrong she was, how little she understood about the true nature of their marriage.
