“Then what did ye think?” he said wildly, stepping back toward her. “Ye tell me, what did ye expect from me?”

He halted a single step from her, towering over her with his great height and broad shoulders. His eyes were fixed on her unblinkingly, those gray depths making her tongue-tied.

“I…” She broke the silence. She would not be cowed him. She never had been, and she certainly wasn’t going to be cowed now that they were married. “It doesn’t matter, does it?”

She looked him up and down. Everything fell into place. Maybe she was in love with him, but she rather thought she was in love with the idea of him, rather than the man he truly was.

“I thought nothing.” She took a step back from him.

He opened his mouth as if he wanted to say something more, but she didn’t give him a chance.

“Whatever I thought, it was silly, foolish—a mad idea that was a complete impossibility. After all, I’m just the silly, little wife that you never really wanted in the first place, am I not?”

He closed his mouth.

“That’s what you think, isn’t it?” She shook her head in disbelief. “Do you know something? I thought that of all men, at least I hadyourrespect. How wrong I was. Why would you respect the woman you seduced so many times into your bed and have been planning to leave as soon as you possibly could?”

“Celia, this is for the best?—”

“Fine. Go, then.” She waved a hand at the carriage, having to speak louder and faster now just to keep her tears at bay. She would not give him the satisfaction of seeing her cry.“Disport yourself in Scotland. Enjoy your business. Enjoy your mistresses, for we both know you intend to take them.”

She spun around and marched back up the steps.

“Celia!” he barked, but she didn’t flinch. She wouldn’t give him the satisfaction.

“When should we expect you back, Your Grace?” She reverted to using his title. There was no way on this earth she was going to call him by his name now. “As your obedient, little Duchess here in this house, I need to have the house ready for your return, don’t I? Maybe we’ll all stand on the drive, bowing and curtseying as you arrive.”

“Celia!”

“What?” She halted on the top step, turning to face him again.

He looked quite wild now, his coat billowing in the wind, but he didn’t follow her.

He won’t follow me. He has no wish to.

“When will you be back? It’s simply a matter of business and making arrangements now.” She waved her hand at him, impatient for his answer.

“Next spring.” His answer was sharp and curt.

“W-what?” she stammered. That lump was back in her throat, but it was bigger now. She swallowed past it and blinked fast, determined not to let him see how much he was hurting her. “That’s nine months away, at least! What if I’m with child?”

It hadn’t escaped her mind that it was perfectly possible after the last twenty-four hours they had spent together.

“Would a father not want to see their child when it was born?”

“If you are with child, then believe me, that child is better off without me.”

With no other words, not even a goodbye, Keith walked away. He marched toward his horse and flicked the reins over its head.

I cannot watch. I cannot watch him leave when these are his final words.

“What a fine goodbye this is,” she threw at his back. “Good riddance, more like.” She turned and marched off into the house.

In the corridor, Frances and Elizabeth stood together, muttering and pointing at all the cases and bags in alarm.

“What is it? What has happened, Celia?” Elizabeth asked, panicked.

“I’m sorry. I… I need to be alone.” Celia lost her battle with her tears. The first tear escaped her eye.