Page 4 of To Tempt A Highland Duke
She wiped her eyes with the corner of her apron. “So you see your father is unlikely to consider me as potential marriage material.”
“I wish he did.”
She wished he did too, but if she married him and could not give him a child… he’d end up resenting her. Besides, he did not love her, perhaps he never had. She’d had enough of loveless marriages. Her next marriage might last over five years. Her previous marriage taught her she could not bear a long, loveless marriage. She would marry for love this time or not at all.
“Now run along and find something useful to do. This is an important visit for your father and for Scotland. Please try to do him proud and leave chasing the girls until next week.”
His cheeky grin was back. “I’ll try, but that will probably break a few hearts.” He blew her a kiss as he went out the door. “You’re still my favorite.”
She let out a sigh. Oh, to have a boy like Connor as her own.
Busy. She needed to keep herself busy so she could push away the emptiness deep inside.
Trouble was, she could not get Connor’s words out of her head—Dougray wanted to marry. Finally he was ready, only now it was too late. Everyone knew she couldn’t give him what he needed. A child. The King would likely not allow the match.
Chapter 2
On the other side of the dining room, Dougray stood just outside the door and listened to the conversation between his son and Lady Flora. His son had excellent taste; Florawasa beautiful woman. And kind, and generous, and she owned his heart—Christ, she was perfect. Perfect to take to wife.
He’d loved her for years. He’d stayed away to protect her.
Connor liked her, and she liked Connor. Dougray loved her, desired her more than any woman he knew. Her words spoken to Connor unlocked the chain he had wrapped tightly around his heart. Perhaps there was a way he could have his heart’s desire.
Years ago he’d not married her to protect her, but now she did not need his protection. He staggered against the doorframe. Oh, my God, he was free to love her.
It was safe to wed her because she was barren. She could not have a child. Therefore, he could not kill her in childbirth as he had done to Connie.
His world spun, and his heart filled with hope. Why had he not understood the significance of her becoming a childless widow before?
The King and the other Scottish dukes made it clear he must marry. His collar tightened at the memory of the dictatorial letter with the royal seal upon it. They wanted him to align with a highland clan. Flora was a Mackenzie before her marriage.
It was almost too perfect.
‘We must preserve the Scottish Dukedom,’ the note had said. The King was not as stupid as many thought. His order to marry came with a suggested date for announcing his engagement. A pity that when he received the note nine months ago, he’d not felt inclined to be forced into wedlock. He remembered what had happened to Connie, and to his mother, and the thought of putting any woman through that again… Guilt over Connie’s death constantly trampled him like a rampaging wild bull.
These past three years he had not been engaging his brain. Why hadn’t he noticed that Flora bore Iain no children?
His betrothal had to be announced in two day’s time at the diner for the King, and if he didn’t he could end up offending their royal guest. Not the done thing given it was the first time in almost two-hundred-years a King had set foot on Scottish soil. To defy his King’s wish at an event such as this…
A marriage with the sole goal of producing a child made his stomach rollick with fear, and nausea rise to choke him. He was a big man. Over six feet five inches and shoulders as wide as this door he hid behind. They had told him the baby was too big for Connie to birth and it had taken three days to bring Connor into this world. Three days for his love to die in agony and fear. The midwife Angus found for Connie said it was a miracle the baby boy survived.
Dougray grimaced. Connor was a fighter, all right. He was his son.
When he’d learned any child of his was likely to be a big baby, he’d sworn on Connie’s grave he would never cause another woman’s death. He could not go through that again, especially if the woman owned his heart. It had taken Flora to open his heart again, six years after Connie’s death. Flora had been only thirteen when Connie died. When she was nineteen he’d came to stay with her family. She helped him heal. Or so he’d thought.
He pushed off the wall he was leaning against and watched Flora as she roamed around the vast table moving place settings. She was a sturdy lass. She was Angus’s sister, all right. Tall, big hips, perhaps… he often wondered if she would have survived what Connie couldn’t, but he would not risk her life on perhaps.
She reached over the table and the movement pulled her gown tight over her bottom. And what a bottom it was. Plump and round just right to fill his hands. Her rich copper-golden hair floated around her shoulders like silk, and his body heated at the idea of letting it slide over his naked skin. Her lips were full and firm, and he’d often fantasied at what those lips would feel like wrapped around the hard length of him.
He suddenly burned for her. He’d kept his lust at bay these past years by occasionally taking lovers. He was always careful. What would it be like to make love to a woman and not have to worry about getting her with child? To relax and not always think about having to withdraw before he reached his release. Not having to wear a French glove appealed—a lot.
Just then she looked over her shoulder and saw him standing there.
“Why are you loitering in the doorway like your son?”
He grinned stupidly at her. “The sight of your plump bottom was spellbinding.”
For one moment she looked shocked, and then her creamy cheeks filled with color. She turned her back and continued brushing the table. “You need to have a word with Connor. He is far too much like his father, and if you are not careful, he’ll get some poor lass in trouble.”
