Page 14
Story: His Scottish Duchess
“You are right. My apologies, Duchess.” He nodded with a strict expression. “I did not expect you to be so eager, but since you are so eager to play with me, I see no reason to deny you what you want.”
“Go on then,” Catherine challenged.
Sampson smirked. “Fine. Tell me, have you ever been with a man?”
Color filled her cheeks, and she choked on air, coughing slightly from immense embarrassment.
“Oh dear.” Sampson mock frowned. “Did I catch you by surprise? Or did I perhaps remind you of salacious moments spent in the throes of pleasure?—”
“Nay! Nay—no. Absolutely not!” she gasped, horrified.
“It is nothing to be ashamed of. It is perfectly normal to?—”
“I answered yer question, Your Grace. I believe it is my turn to ask ye a question,” she said curtly.
Sampson leaned back in his seat and nodded, a teasing smile on his lips. “All right. Ask me whatever you wish.”
Catherine narrowed her eyes at him, her lips moving before she could even think. “Did ye truly need a wife?”
“I beg your pardon?”
“Was…” She hesitated, struggling to find the right words. “I’ve wanted to know for a while. Did ye agree to take one of my father’s daughters as a wife because ye really needed one, or did ye merely go along with it to settle the debt?”
“Do I seem like the sort of person who would do anything without reason?” he countered.
“I cannae say. Ye’re rather difficult to understand sometimes,” she admitted softly.
Sampson was silent for a moment, then he said, “That is a fair observation. To answer your question, I really needed a wife. I meant what I said about it being good for business. And, as I also mentioned, no father worth his honor in London would let me near his daughter. So, your father’s offer did not just save him, but it was quite the help to me as well.”
Catherine nodded, feeling relieved.
“Might I ask what brought on that question?” Sampson queried, watching her with an expression she couldn’t decipher.
“Would ye like it to be yer second question?” she taunted, her lips curling into a smirk.
Sampson grinned. “You truly are full of surprises.”
She shrugged, thankful he did not push because she did not wish to complain that she felt as though he viewed her as a pet more often than not. Just an obedient, little plaything he would shift his attention to from time to time.
“Tell me about your family. What are they like?” Sampson asked.
That was certainly an unexpected question.
Catherine hesitated for a moment, but she had no reason to refuse. Nor did she want to, as she longed to confess just how much she missed her family to anyone who would listen.
“Well, I have two younger siblings and an older sister. Margaret—we call her Meg—is the eldest. She is always fussing and worrying about us young’uns. She seems difficult, but she is so incredibly kind and loving.
“And then there’s my younger brother, Graham. He’s thirteen and always getting himself into trouble. That lad has impressed and frightened the lot of us in the same breath, but he cares so deeply about our family, and he is growing up so fast. We all know he’s going to be quite the gentleman when he is older.” She smiled softly. “And then there’s wee Isobel. She’s just a bairn. Only two years old.”
Sampson arched an eyebrow. “That’s quite an age gap.”
Catherine nodded. “She wasnae born of my mother, but she’s ours all the same. My parents took her in and raised her as their own. Father says her green eyes make her just as much a Lennox as the rest of us.”
Something flickered across Sampson’s face, but it was gone before she could place it.
“A generous family,” he murmured.
Catherine nodded. “Aye. There was always warmth in our home. Laughter.” She looked around the grand but eerily silent study. “This house… it’s too quiet. It is a wee bit disconcerting sometimes.”
Table of Contents
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- Page 13
- Page 14 (Reading here)
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