Page 1 of Wedded to the Scottish Duke

CHAPTER 1

Ringwood, Hampshire, England

“Well, at least I picked a warm night for this.” Celia shuddered, cursing the brisk wind of the summer night as she slowly slipped the robe down her shoulders. She hesitated, glancing back at the house a little distance behind her.

She had come for a two-week stay at Lady Caroline Arundel’s house in Hampshire. As one of many in the party, she had finally seen an opportunity to complete her dare.

Now her sister and her friends had all completed their dares, and somehow fortunately married well because of them, Celia knew she couldn’t delay the inevitable for much longer.

Her eyes darted between the windows as she chewed on her lip; it was so late at night that everyone had already gone to bed. They had arrived that afternoon, shared dinner, and then retiredfor the night. The only window still lit with a candle was in her chamber.

As a giggle of stolen delight escaped her, Celia turned back to face the water. She slipped the dressing gown all the way down her arms and dropped it to the ground. Wearing only her chemise now, she edged toward the water. She dipped her toes, and she hissed, startled by the iciness of the water, despite the hot weather.

I should have chosen to do this somewhere on the Continent—somewhere warmer.

Inhaling deeply, she looked around again at the lake. All was dark. The only light was from a sliver of the crescent moon peeking out from behind a cloud. The silvery light revealed a bank of trees along one side of the lake, then the rocky shore on the other. Off to the left was a formal garden, the flower heads just visible like little drops of silver.

I’m alone.

The thought emboldened her. She reached for the edge of her chemise and lifted it over her head. When she got out of the water, she knew she would want something to towel off with. She laid the chemise down behind her and then stepped further into the water.

“Oh!” she gasped at the coolness and pushed on further.

Curse my adventurous ways.Those girls had better believe me when I say I did this. I don’t want to ever do this again!

She forced herself to wade more quickly into the water. Her legs brushed against reeds, and she edged deeper and deeper, then plunged her head underneath and swam into the depths.

The water was no longer so cold, but almost warm and inviting. She dove and then broke the surface of the water again, laughing as she looked up at the moon.

Imagine the scandal if anyone saw me now!

She giggled again, turning on the spot as she looked back at the house. There was something incredibly freeing about this night. She was breaking all the rules, and yet… no one knew.

“Should a lady be doing that?”

Celia almost squealed in fright. She spun in the water, searching for that incredibly deep voice. It was practically a baritone, a warm thrum that reached deep into her core.

Then she saw him.

There was a figure standing by the formal garden. Either he was absolutely towering, or her position in the water made him look even more ridiculously tall.

Please let this be a dream, please let this be a dream!

“Who’s there?”

“I asked my question first, lass.”

She jumped at that deep voice. A fascinating hint of an accent altered the words, though she could not be sure where it was from.

Darn it, I’m not dreaming.

“Oh, God’s blood.”

Without thinking or turning back to face the shadowy figure again, she spun around in the water and thrashed her arms, swimming back toward the shore as quickly as she possibly could.

“Ye all right, lass?”

There was that accent again.

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