Page 7 of Wedded to the Scottish Duke

As she came near him, he took her hand and lifted it to his lips, kissing the back of it. He didn’t miss the way she pressed her lips together at the jolt of electricity that passed between them.

She remembers the touches we shared last night.

He supposed in English society, such touches were scandalous. They had been bold, almost completely naked with one another. A wild idea came to his mind, and he imagined what it would have been like if he and Lady Celia had crossed every boundary last night.

The thought that she might have lain on that shingle with him, embracing him, her legs wrapped around his hips as he pleasured her was completely intoxicating. The thought of that voice, too, moaning his name… it hit something deep inside of him.

“A pleasure to meet you, Sir,” she added stiffly.

He slowly released her hand, watching her every movement as he did.

“I told ye,” he whispered as he walked past her, “it’s ‘Yer Grace’ to ye.”

“Oh, silly me!” Lady Arundel cried. “I forgot to introduce you properly. Lady Celia, this is Keith Lennox, the Duke of Hardbridge.”

Lady Celia recovered from the shock rather quickly. She sat down in the chair beside him. Her eyes darted to him briefly, before she looked away, as if this news did not affect her.

Is she stunned that a man as rough as me in appearance is a duke? She would not be the first. Or, is she stunned that a duke saw her so undone last night?

Either way, he enjoyed just how unsettled she had been for that brief moment. It was all the more pleasurable when they both reached for the coffee pot at the same time.

When their fingers brushed, she drew her hand back quickly. Unlike many other women who might have avoided his gaze at that moment, she looked at him challengingly.

Aye, that’s the spirit I saw in her last night.

“Lady Celia, I must speak with you now that I have you here,” Lady Arundel said with delight. “For Lady Alicia is not the only single lady I have as my guest this week.”

Lady Alicia blushed and looked down demurely at her lap, half her face hidden by a curtain of blonde curls that had fallen out from her updo.

“Other ladies will be down soon from their rest, and it seems I must ask for your help in seeing them married.” Lady Arundel thrust a finger excitedly toward Lady Celia.

“My help?” Lady Celia said with no pretense of innocence. “I think my matchmaking days are over, thank you.” She glanced at her sister, the Duchess of Barlow, who was doing her best to hide a giggle behind her cup.

“From what I hear,” Lady Arundel said around a mouthful of honeyed toast, “four ladies married dukes because of your… your…”

“Encouragement?” the Duchess of Barlow offered with a smile.

At her side, the Duke of Barlow shook his head, stifling his own laugh. “You mean, her interference,” he suggested.

“I’d think you would be happy with my interference, Your Grace.” Lady Celia sat taller in her chair. “Would you be married to my sister or have your lovely son without myinterference?”

The Duke of Barlow affected an angry look, but when his wife laid a hand on his arm, something astonishing happened. His demeanor changed completely, and he shared a smile with his wife that Keith felt rather uncomfortable witnessing.

He looked away, aware that as he fidgeted restlessly in his seat, his arm accidentally brushed against Lady Celia’s. She noticed it too, for she shuffled a little away to avoid touching him again.

“Now, tell me, are the rumors true?” Lady Arundel asked excitedly, pushing plates of food toward Keith as she spoke to Celia.

Keith had little interest in all the ostentatious food served up for breakfast, so simply helped himself to a cob.

“You arranged these four matches because of dares you gave?”

“I did.” Lady Celia nodded, sipping her coffee. “But those dares are all done now, each and every one. I have no intention of giving any others.”

The Duchess of Barlow looked rather interested in this news, staring at her sister with wide eyes, not really noticing that she was in danger of spilling her tea on the front of her dress.

“What sort of dares were these?” Lord Crampton asked from across the table, still overly concerned with the state of his cravat.

“Oh, I cannot confirm what sort of dares they were.” Lady Celia waved her hand dismissively. “I am merely content for my sister and our friends’ happiness. I’m afraid you’ll have to go about your matchmaking without any aid from me, Lady Arundel. I have hung up my cap for such a profession.”

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