Page 88 of Wedded to the Scottish Duke

When she had told him not to hold back, it was as if that panther lodged deep inside him had been released from its shackles. He had thrust into her repeatedly just to feel every inch of her, and for her to feel every inch of him too.

As he picked up the letters, he was plotting how he would make love to her the next time. Perhaps he would take her from behind so he could marvel at the curve of her back as he entered her and pulled playfully at her hair. Or maybe he would hold her up against the nearest wall.

One of the letters suddenly caught his eye. The handwriting was recognizable to him as was the Laird’s emblem embossed in the red wax seal.

‘Dear Keith,

You are to be married, Brother? Ha! I told our man-at-arms you would marry an English lass before long. I’m only sorry I could not make it to the wedding, so you’ll have to bring her to Scotland soon so I can meet her.

Our clan also looks forward to seeing you again. Matters of business have not been easy without you and need your attention, but we’ll leave such matters for another time, as this letter is for good news only.

I am thrilled to hear that you got married, though judging from the letters I have received from our mother and cousin, it was a very rushed affair. Somehow, I am not surprised that you could not behave, Brother. Perhaps English ladies are not as reserved as I thought if one was willing to transgress with you too!

The council is, of course, surprised, but mostly delighted. Well, at least… I’ll say they are delighted. You know old Fergus. He was rather shocked when I told him. He always thought you’d never marry. He said something about you being so like our father and that he worried for the future. An odd fellow, Fergus. I wonder why you kept him on the council. I’d be quite happy to be rid of him…’

The letter went on at great length, but Keith abruptly stopped reading and looked up.

Fergus… He knew the old councilman very well. He was a man who had witnessed the whole of Keith’s father’s lairdship. Like the rest of the councilmen, Fergus had shuddered with horror to see the way Elizabeth was treated in that castle. More than once, he offered a place for Elizabeth or Keith to escape to.

One night, many years ago, Keith had gotten drunk on whisky in such a room when Fergus had found him. Keith had confessed tohim just how many times people told him how like his father he was.

“I fear becoming him someday. That I’ll be cruel to the clanspeople, that I’d be cruel to my wife as well. How can he hurt her? How canhe?”Keith had slurred in anger.“What if I’ll do it someday? What if, despite the sort of man I think I am now, I become him? What if I marry, only to hurt the woman I never thought I would hurt?”

“Ye are not yer father.”Fergus had sat down beside him and clapped him on the shoulder.“But if ye fear it, laddie, then ye must take steps not to become him. Everything yer father would have done, do the opposite. Make a point of never being him. Then, ye’ll be safe from such a fate.”

It was that night that Keith had resolved never to marry a woman he could end up caring for. He didn’t want to risk becoming as obsessed with her as his father had been with his mother and ending up hurting her.

Slowly, Keith put the letter down on a small table as he turned back to the bed.

Celia was beautiful as she slept soundly. His shirt had risen up now, revealing a little of her rear. Her face was serene as she slept, holding none of the angry and fearful expressions that had been there on the day their scandal had broken.

Then Keith saw another face in his mind’s eye.

He saw his mother’s tearful face as she ran away from his father. He saw himself as a child, peering through an open door and watching his father as he raged, throwing tankards across a room, then a whole chair which broke into fragments. He heard his mother’s wails as she ran, trying to escape him.

“Ye are so like him.”

How many times had he heard those words? From his staff, from his friends, from his councilmen?

What if he caused Celia that pain? What if he became his father, after all, and caused her such grief and despair?

I cannot do that to her. Not to Celia.

I have just made a vow to protect her until my dying day. So I shall. We shall have tonight and then tomorrow… I shall take steps to ensure that I do not become my father. I’ll see to it that Celia will never be hurt by me.

CHAPTER 25

“Thank you,” Celia whispered to the maid who had drawn her bath.

The sun was now setting, casting an orange light that was as warm and as inviting as the copper bath.

Celia had been shown to her chamber for the night by the maid. Supper had been prepared and left for her on a tray on a side table, though Celia had barely touched it. She kept glancing at the door that connected her chamber to Keith’s.

When she had awoken in his chamber that afternoon, she hadn’t been able to contain her disappointment that he was gone. She’d hoped to wake up in his arms… Was that really too much to ask for?

“Ring the bell if you need anything, Your Grace,” the maid said kindly.

Celia thanked her once more.

---