Page 37 of The Scottish Duke
“Must I?”
She nodded. “I don’t want it bandied about that we’re lovers. It’s one thing to have made a terrible mistake once, but to compound it would be idiotic.”
At the time, she’d said she enjoyed herself. Had she changed her mind?
“Promise me,” she said, “that you’ll make it known that I’m not your mistress.”
“How am I to do that? Call a meeting of the staff? Oh, by the way, the enceinte MissGordon and I have had no relationship at all.”
He focused on her. She didn’t look away.
“Do you think they’ll believe that?” he asked.
She took a deep breath before answering.
“I can’t do anything about the past. It’s going forward that I’m concerned about.”
He turned his head and stared out the window.
“You’re safe from me, MissGordon. I shall not sully your person. God forbid.”
Chapter 11
Lorna lay her head back against the seat and closed her eyes. She’d never been hated before. But she’d never before disobeyed the basic tenets of propriety. She’d bent rules. Then, she dared to walk among the righteous people of Wittan Village without hanging her head in shame.
After Reverend McGill’s ranting this afternoon, she had the feeling she would be considered immoral regardless of what she did from this point forward.
Harlot. Whore. Fornicator. Those labels might well be affixed to her for life.
She’d been terrified facing the minister and the crowd he was whipping into an angry frenzy. But, then, she’d been equally frightened on first realizing she was pregnant. She knew the minute the housekeeper discovered her condition she’d be released from service. What would she do? Where would she go? How would she survive?
She hadn’t had time to feel shame. She’d been too busy making plans. She’d kept her position until it was difficult to hide her pregnancy. She left Blackhall before Mrs.McDermott or the members of staff knew of her condition. She’d chosen Wittan Village in which to live because it was close enough for Nan to visit.
Her plans might have worked, too, if the duke hadn’t appeared. Everything fell apart the minute he showed up. It was as if she’d been paddling toward shore all this time. Suddenly she was hit by wave after wave and was now floating alone in deep ocean currents.
She knew she wasn’t the first woman to find herself in trouble. Was every village in Scotland filled with only virtuous females? Was that why there was such venom against her? Were they fearful that the village girls and young women would succumb to passion as easily as she had?
Although she didn’t want to go back to Blackhall, she couldn’t think of another option. He was right. Even if he settled money on her—which she would take for her son’s benefit, not her own—the same situation might easily occur in another place.
She was so tired of being afraid.
If nothing else, returning to Blackhall Castle would mean an end to the fear.
What was he thinking? Why didn’t he speak? She could almost see the duke sitting there frowning at her. Sometimes she thought the vision of the man was papered to the inside of her eyelids.
Would her son look like him?
She believed, from the beginning, that the child she carried was a boy. She would love him with all her heart and always protect him. She didn’t want him to lack for anything. No doubt every mother felt the same.
Mother.She’d said the word over and over to herself for the past eight months and it still had the power to scare her. She was Lorna Gordon, but in one short month she was going to be a mother. Her child was going to stare up at her with innocent eyes and expect her to provide love, safety, food, and warmth. She would. Somehow, she would, even if it meant dealing with the Duke of Kinross.
How would the others see her return? She’d left as a maid with good references. She was going back as the mother of an illegitimate child: the duke’s bastard. She could just imagine the talk in the servants’ quarters. They wouldn’t be any more understanding than the villagers of Wittan.
Putting aside her pride wasn’t an easy thing to do even if it was for the best. Yet she couldn’t rid herself of the feeling that she might come to bitterly regret this decision.
She opened her eyes to find herself the object of his study. To be stared at so single-mindedly was nerve-racking, but she wouldn’t look away. Instead, she held his gaze for as long as she could, anything but think of that night. Anything but marvel at how handsome he was and what an effect he had on her, even heavy with his child.
Her breasts were tender, but the nipples shouldn’t harden just because he was sitting close. Her body shouldn’t remember each touch of his fingers on her skin, how his cupped hand smoothed from her shoulder down her arm. How he stroked the length of her legs as if he’d never seen such limbs before and marveled at all the curves and hollows.
