Page 93 of Wedded to the Scottish Duke

CHAPTER 26

“What did you say?” Celia blinked.

She hoped this was a dream, that she had somehow made this up. Surely it was not possible that Keith was leaving already.

“I need to go back to Scotland.” He was now adjusting the cuffs of his coat, still not looking at her. “I’ve made the arrangements.”

She stepped back as footmen and his valet appeared, carrying a portmanteau and two other smaller bags down the staircase.

He packed fast.

“I don’t understand.” She shook her head. “You and I have been married less than twenty-four hours… You’re leaving? Now? This very moment?”

“Soon enough. When my horse is ready.” He turned around and walked out the door, apparently wishing to escape the house as soon as possible. “I’ll write to you about the house and estate. Aye, feel free to make any changes ye like. It’s yer home now.”

“I thought it was our home.” She stumbled to a stop at the bottom of the front steps as he halted on the gravel, his boots kicking up stones around him. Slowly, he turned around to face her.

“Do ye not remember what I told ye, Celia? When I asked ye to be my matchmaker, what did I say?”

She glanced around, but there was no one there to hear her. The servants were inside, bringing down more bags, as in the distance, horses were being brought out of the stables.

“I remember. I remember you wanting someone quiet and obedient.” She lifted her chin and folded her arms. “It didn’t quite happen like that, did it?”

“No. It didn’t.”

He looked down at her. For the briefest of seconds, she saw heat in his eyes. It was just a glimmer of the passion from the night before, as if someone had struck flint against steel in the darkness but there was barely a spark.

“I also told ye something else…” he trailed off and walked toward her.

Now that the horses were approaching him, he moved toward her so the servants couldn’t overhear him.

“I told ye that my bride shouldn’t want to be around me. Remember that?”

“Yes, but…”

That was surely a different time. He had been talking about a marriage of convenience really, a simple arrangement. He hadn’t expected the passion they had shared either, but he had embraced it with open arms.

“What?” he said sharply. That deep voice, which had so often been such a thrill, was now harsh and uninviting. “What did ye expect, Celia? What sort of husband did ye think I would make?”

“I thought…” She swallowed past the lump in her throat.

She felt empty. Mere seconds ago, she had been reeling at Frances describing her as being in love, and she had been quite ready to accept it. Yet, it seemed that love was not reciprocated.

“I warned ye.” Keith took a step toward her.

She supposed he was trying to look menacing as he eyed her cautiously. She didn’t feel daunted by that stare, though. She felt angry. Hot tears pricked her eyes, though she refused to let them fall.

“I warned ye again and again what kind of man I was, and what kind of wife I wanted.”

“And you married me anyway. We both know I was not what you wanted. Are you really so surprised now that I do not want to be here alone?” she countered, arching her eyebrows.

“What did ye think would happen now, Celia? In the name of God.” He stepped away, his voice rising. His staff must have sensed an impending argument, for they scurried off, apparently finding excuses to fetch more saddles, bridles, and supplies for their ride. “What kind of married life did ye think this would be?”

“I thought?—”

“Did ye think I would be content to be here?” He waved a hand at the house behind her. “That I would be besotted and stay by yer side like a lovesick pup?”

“Oh, for God’s sake. The image of you as a lovesick pup is an impossibility. You and I both know that.”

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