Page 58 of Wedded to the Scottish Duke

Keith glanced at his mother in alarm, only to see her flash him an innocent smile. Frances was now doing her best not to laugh. She feigned interest in the performance, raising her opera glasses to her face to cover her smile as she looked at the stage.

“I do hope you’ll join my daughter and myself for a promenade tomorrow. We would dearly like to have you with us,” Lady Dawson offered.

Behind her, Lady Alicia sat taller in her chair, looking so full of hope that the guilt churned in Keith’s stomach.

I cannot.

Everything in his body rebelled against the idea of promenading so innocently with Lady Alicia. He was not a man for promenading, to begin with. The idea sounded more like the pastime of a dandy. Yet, there was more to it. Each time he tried to meet Lady Alicia’s eyes, he looked across the auditorium again, seeking out Celia.

“Forgive me, Lady Dawson, I fear there has been some misunderstanding.” He moved to stand in front of Lady Alicia. He was not going to make the apology to the mother before he had made the apology to the daughter. “I wouldn’t want to mislead ye, Lady Alicia.”

At once, her smile dropped, and her eyes didn’t look as wide as before.

“Oh, I see,” Lady Alicia whispered.

“I think ye are a fine lady,” he assured her, “but to promenade with ye would suggest I have serious intentions. Which I don’t.” He bowed a little to her. “I apologize if I have caused any hurt.”

“No matter.” She shook her head a little. Despite her words, she looked very hurt, indeed. “Thank you for your honesty.”

“If ye would excuse me.” He bowed to them all. “I must retire for the night. I’ll walk home and leave the carriage for ye two,” he said to his mother and cousin.

“That’s not necessary,” Frances began.

“Don’t worry,” he assured her, putting a hand on her shoulder. “Ye take it.”

She smiled a little in gratitude.

“Keith?” Elizabeth hissed in alarm.

“Have a good evening, Mother.” He tapped her shoulder too, then turned and left.

He intended to cast one last glance at Lady Alicia, but his eyes defied him yet again. He looked at Celia instead.

To his relief, she had not been indifferent to what had just happened. She was no longer watching the performance but staring straight at him as he turned around and walked out of the box.

“I cannot continue to sit here and do nothing,” Keith muttered to himself, rising from his desk chair.

“W-what?” Frances muttered sleepily from where she had been napping, the book she had intended to read spread across her lap.

Keith laughed as he looked at her. She reminded him so much of his brother. It explained why since he had come to London, the two of them had gotten on so well.

“Oops, sorry,” he said with a chuckle. “Did ye intend to spend all night in here reading?”

“I like it in here.” She yawned as she closed the book, forgetting to mark where she had stopped reading. “It reminds me of my father.”

“I’m sorry,” he sighed. “I made it my own and forgot… It can’t be nice to see me change it.”

“You’d be wrong,” she said with a satisfied smile. “It has both his memories and new life now. It makes me happy to see it.” She waved a hand at the new paintings he had put in the room.

Determined to bring some of Scotland with him, Keith had hung paintings of the Scottish Highlands on the walls. There were other things around the room that reminded him of his home—a decanter of whisky, ornate crystal whisky glasses, and even a display of broadswords.

“So, what were you saying?” Frances asked distractedly, now sitting straight in her chair. “You cannot continue to sit here anymore? Oh good, because your brooding is rather tiring.”

“Brooding?” He nearly laughed. “I’m not brooding.”

“Oh no, no, of course, you’re not.” She smiled as she said the words. “You’ve just sat in here all night, trying to work and failing, then staring out the window. Shall I guess what’s on your mind? Is it the lady you were staring at during thewholeperformance? Well, when you were in the box, at least.”

He blinked. “Damn yer perceptiveness, Frances.”

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