Page 133 of The Scottish Duke
“What is going to happen to her?” she asked.
“I told Jeremy to bring her back to Blackhall. I’ll summon the authorities there.”
She nodded.
“I hate her,” she said. “I don’t want to hate anyone, but it might take a while not to hate her.”
“Justice might go a long way to banishing your hatred.”
“Will she get it?”
“Yes,” he said.
He wrapped his arm around her and pulled her to him.
“Did you mean what you said?” she asked.
He didn’t pretend to misunderstand. Instead, he looked down at her, his gaze intent.
“Yes, I did.”
“You love me?”
His smile was crooked and charming.
“Yes, I do. I’ve fought it for weeks, if not months. Maybe a year.”
“Is it something you have to fight against?” she asked.
“Oh, yes, it was. I didn’t stand a chance,” he said. “I was lost from the very beginning. I should have just stopped fighting immediately.”
She tilted her head and studied him.
“I haven’t the slightest idea if I should be offended or overwhelmed,” she said.
“I felt the same,” he said, “when you told me I was a prig. Shall I make it better?”
He turned to her, facing her directly.
“I love you, Lorna Gordon Russell, Duchess of Kinross.” He smiled. “There, is that better?”
“Infinitely,” she said.
After a silent moment passed, she smiled brightly. “You’re waiting for me to say it, aren’t you?”
He only raised one eyebrow at her, looking ducal and adorable.
“I love you, Your Grace,” she said softly.
He leaned forward and kissed her, only for their son to take that moment to fuss at both of them, fists flailing.
Epilogue
“What do you think, Your Grace?”
Peter was studying the new door he’d just installed between the sitting room and the adjacent guest room. For now it was going to be an impromptu nursery.
Lorna wasn’t comfortable with Robbie sleeping in the rooms allotted for the children of Blackhall on the third floor. One day it would be time to move him, but not now.
