Page 45 of Wedded to the Scottish Duke

Envy, like the Loch Ness monster, rose deep within Celia’s gut. She tried to push it down, but she could not. Her friends had matches of affection, of passion too, but that was not Celia’s future.

She took a step back, retreating beyond the threshold of the room before anyone could notice she was there.

She had never wanted to marry. She had made that decision long ago. Why should it matter now if the Duke of Hardbridge took a bride who wasn’t her? Why should she even care, even if she had compromised herself for him?

The pleasures of that afternoon seemed a long time ago now, as if she was looking at them down a long tunnel.

“It doesn’t matter,” she whispered to herself.

She turned on her heel, casting just one glance back at the Duke of Hardbridge and Lady Alicia. Lady Alicia laughed at something he said.

“Well, at least that’s another successful match I’ve made. I’ll have quite the reputation as a matchmaker for some time,” Celia muttered, trying to keep the huff of frustration out of her voice as she moved back to the staircase and climbed upstairs.

By the time she had reached the landing, she had pulled all the pins out of her hair and let the locks fall down her shoulders.

A wild idea came to her mind. If she and the Duke of Hardbridge had met another way, a way in which she had not been so bold as to swim naked in a lake, he might have consideredhera match.

“Don’t be ridiculous,” she muttered as she marched into her chamber. “He’s just a handsome duke. I’ve met those before, and they certainly do not change my life.”

CHAPTER 13

“Where is she?” Keith almost missed her in all the hubbub of everyone preparing to leave.

He had seen Celia at breakfast, but he had not talked to her, for she had been surrounded by people asking after her welfare following the snake bite. Now that they were all preparing to leave Lady Arundel’s house, he intended to take the opportunity to speak to her before it was too late.

He marched down the driveway, his eyes flitting between the different carriages. He was just beginning to think he’d made a mistake and missed her departure when he saw her walking toward a small carriage, so small that it had to be carrying only her away from the party along with a footman or two. She walked rather quickly toward it, the wound on her leg apparently healing rapidly.

“Lady Celia?” Keith called and walked toward her, rather glad her carriage was so far away from the others that no one could hear him calling to her.

She turned her head around, and then something strange happened. Rather than holding his gaze as she had so often done over these last few days, she looked away rather quickly. She even moved more quickly toward the carriage.

“Lass?” he called again, reaching her in time to stop her from climbing into the carriage.

He watched her intently, noting that she would not look him in the eye.

What the hell has happened to ye?

Her demeanor now was a far cry from what it had been the day before in her bedchamber. There, she had been all passion and fire. Now, she was ice and distance.

“How are ye feeling?” he asked, glancing back when he saw her footman loading her portmanteau onto the carriage. He could not ask what he really wanted to ask.

“Much better, thank you.” She looked over his shoulder, into the carriage, still not meeting his eyes.

“I am glad to hear it. It pained me to see ye so sick.”

She didn’t appear to hear him and just gestured to the carriage, showing her intention to leave.

“Before ye depart…”

He glanced at the footman. Fortunately, the servant hurried off to assist her sister. It gave Keith the perfect opportunity to say what he truly wished to say.

“When will our next lesson be?”

“What?” She looked him in the eye, at last.

“Well, ye were going to give me my first lesson at the ball. I rather enjoyed how that lesson went.” He smiled a little, hoping to remind her of the kiss they had shared on the terrace. “When will our next lesson be?”

“Oh, of course, because these lessons are all for the purpose of finding a wife, aren’t they?” she huffed. “I think it best we have no more lessons.”

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