Page 95 of Wedded to the Scottish Duke

Covering her face as quickly as she could, she grabbed her skirt and ran through the house. She needed to get away, needed to hide as far away as possible. For one minute, she thought of taking refuge in her chamber, but that would only remind her of what she and Keith had done there.

Instead, she raced through the house to the back garden. She sprinted through the open door and out through the formal borders. She kept on running, even sprinting past the groundskeeper and the gardeners, who were busy pruning roses. She kept on running until the house started to disappear behind her.

She hadn’t yet been this deep into the grounds and only came to a halt when a lake appeared beneath a drop. In danger of falling in, she skidded to a halt on the grassy bank and stared down into the watery depths.

It was an unpleasant reminder of how she and Keith had met. How he had pulled her out of the water, wrapping her in his arms.

The tears came freely then as she dropped to her knees. Maybe she hadn’t understood that she was in love before, but she certainly knew now what she was feeling.

So, this is what heartbreak feels like.

Keith froze with his hands on the bridle as he heard Celia stomp away. It hurt to hear her go, but it had to be done. She would be safer without him.

It’s how it had started for his parents, wasn’t it? His father needed his mother, and though she hadn’t been particularly willing to get married, she had been open to the idea. What started as a need had spiraled into an out-of-control obsession and manipulation.

It only leads to pain.

“Keith? Are you leaving?” His mother’s voice pulled him from his thoughts.

He released the reins and turned around. His footmen were now loading his bags into a cart that would be accompanying him. Beside his mother stood Frances, watching the scene in wonder.

“I have to,” Keith whispered to his mother. He stepped toward her and lowered his head so only she could hear him. “It’s for the best. Ye know that.”

“Do I?” She frowned. “It seems more like you’re running away, Keith. You’ve only just got married.”

“And that is why I am going.”

She clearly didn’t understand him. She furrowed her brow all the more, but he didn’t have time to explain himself now. He vowed to himself that he would write to his mother, that he would lay everything out in ink for her to read through. He hoped that, in the end, she would agree that Celia would be safe and free as long as he was not around.

Like me, I’m sure she won’t want the past to repeat itself.

“I can’t believe you’re leaving already,” Frances said, stepping forward. “Keith… your wife?—”

“I’m going for good reason, Cousin. I assure ye. Now, as yer guardian, if anyone wants to court ye, I hope ye’ll send them up to Scotland to meet me first,” he joked, trying to lighten the mood.

Though Frances smiled, Elizabeth did not. She looked rather teary-eyed, blinking madly.

“Ye have yer freedom now. Both of ye,” he said, his voice softening.

Frances stood taller, clearly pleased with the idea. He knew she would relish not having a guardian constantly at her shoulder. Strangely, Elizabeth didn’t look anywhere near as delighted with the idea as he thought she would.

“Mother?”

She nodded, showing she had heard him, though she was staring somewhat vacantly at the ground.

“Ye have always wanted to come back here, haven’t ye? It’s yer home.”

“It is, but…” She reached out a hand toward him, and he took it. “I wanted this to be your home too.”

“It’s a home. Of a kind.”

He didn’t want to explain himself now. He had a feeling if he did that, Frances would try to persuade him to stay, and he couldn’t risk that.

If I stay here with Celia, it will hurt us all.

“I’ll write to ye all. Now, I must go.” He embraced them both, then turned and swung himself onto the horse.

It only took a minute or so for his staff to be ready. The footman and the groom rode on the cart as he urged the horse forward behind them.

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