Page 1 of Her Scottish Duke
CHAPTER ONE
ST ALBANS, HERTFORDSHIRE, ENGLAND
“Harry, that’s mine,” Rose argued, tugging on his arm in an effort to get back her toast.
“Mine now,” Harry said simply, taking a large bite of it and smiling victoriously at her.
“How old are you two?” Charlotte sighed. She moved to take a fresh piece of toast and handed it to Rose. She hadn’t yet sat down at the breakfast table. She was too busy trying to put out fires between the rest of her family.
“He’s about three years old!” Rose said and poked out her tongue.
“Is that the act of a young lady?” Charlotte countered. As she walked past Rose, she took her younger sister’s shoulder and urged her to sit straight. Rose did so at once. “You know, in a few years, he will be going to university. Will you not miss him when he is gone?”
“He irritates me so much, he could go tomorrow,” Rose muttered miserably, her spine slouching the moment that Charlotte had walked past her.
“Rose,” Charlotte warned. Rose promptly set her spine straight again. “As for you.” She paused as she stood next to her younger brother, Harry. His hair was as dark as her own, and he even bore similar freckles, though they were smattered across his cheeks completely. She lifted his teacup and returned it to its saucer, for he had simply placed it on the tablecloth. “Do not steal from your sister.”
“Yes, Mama Charlotte,” Harry teased her with a laugh. When he dipped his toast in his egg and spilled the yolk all over the tablecloth, she snapped up a napkin and mopped up the mess fast.
This nickname was not unusual, and it was something she had grown used to over the years. It was not as if their mother neglected them—far from it—she was very loving indeed, but she lacked when it came to teaching them certain lessons which Charlotte decided long ago were vital that she and her siblings learned.
Charlotte moved to her seat opposite her siblings, looking at her mother and father at the head of the table. Madly in love, as they had been for many years, there was a constant display of affection between them.
David kissed Margaret on the cheek as he sat down beside her, and she smiled up at him, before they fell into their usual habit of bickering.
“You slept in too long,” Margaret said with a sigh. “You should get up earlier.”
“You should not always tell me what to do, love,” David said tiredly. He yawned, making the freckles on his own cheeks stretch.
“I never tell you what to do!” Margaret professed loudly, dropping her own toast to her plate and scattering crumbs everywhere.
“Pah! Do you not? Maggie, dear,” he gave her the usual nickname that only he ever used, “you just told me what to do.”
Charlotte ignored their argument and picked up the crumbs her mother had dropped.
There was mayhem in the dining room this morning.
“I only give you instructions. Advice,” Margaret said with a shrug. “If you could take care of yourself by now, then all would be well.”
“Strangely enough, I manage to get up in the morning and put my own clothes on, Maggie.”
“I thought your valet did that for you?”
“Oh, you are in an argumentative mood today.”
“Father…” Charlotte tried to cut in, but to no avail. Her mother and father were in full flow of their argument, and strangely, they seemed to be enjoying themselves, for both of them smiled as they did so.
How can two people be in love and yet argue all the time?
It made little sense to her.
“Harry!” Rose complained loudly. She pushed back the brown locks of her hair that were escaping her updo and tried to snatch back the toast that Harry had once more stolen. “You thief.”
“Mine now,” Harry declared, the words muffled around the slice of toast.
“Stop him from doing that, dear,” Margaret ordered David.
“Oh, was that another instruction?” he asked with a smile, and she clinked her cutlery loudly as she put it down on her plate.
