Page 80 of Wedded to the Scottish Duke

CHAPTER 22

“Just send for me if you need me,” Violet urged softly, grasping Celia’s hand, as behind her, Xander was taking their leave.

“Thank you,” Celia whispered back, still holding just as tightly onto her sister’s hand.

Now that the wedding breakfast was drawing to a close, it was dawning on Celia just how much her life had changed. Her parents had already taken their leave, as had her friends. Even the Duke of Hardbridge’s mother and cousin had left, saying they were going to stay in the dower house for a week or two to give the newlyweds some privacy.

The thought of being left alone with her new husband in this massive house was daunting. There would be nothing between her and her husband. They were free to do whatever they liked. The thought made her both nervous and thrilled.

“I’ll see you soon,” Violet promised and extricated her hand from Celia’s.

“Yes, please.” Celia let her go.

She stood in the doorway of the grand house, adjusting the lace of her gown repeatedly as she watched her new husband wave off the last carriage. Violet stuck her head out of the window and continued to wave until the carriage turned at the end of the driveway.

Celia let her hand drop as her eyes shifted to the Duke. He was walking toward her now. He was back to that intense and unblinking gaze.

“Are we alone?” she whispered.

“My staff are here.” He nodded toward something behind her.

She glanced at the staff now entering the dining room, where they had their breakfast.

“I need to speak to you. Alone.” She turned on her heel, grasping the long train of her lace gown as she went.

Unsure of where she was heading, she marched into the nearest room. It turned out to be a music room, so she halted quickly, for it was not what she had expected.

Distracted for a second, she looked at the myriad of musical instruments and the luxurious decorations. There didn’t seem to be a part of this house that wasn’t beautiful.

I cannot believe this is my home now.

Then the door closed, and she was snapped back into the moment. She turned to face the Duke as he stepped toward her.

He was all too handsome in his black suit, the waistcoat a rich copper. He had shed his tailcoat, as he so often did, and his cravat hung loose at his throat. He thrust his hands into his pockets, looking completely at ease in the room, whereas she felt extremely tense.

“I wish to lay some rules,” she said, doing her best to keep her voice level as she raised her chin.

He raised his eyebrows but said nothing.

“First off, forget the wedding night.”

“Forget it?” he spoke, at last.

“Yes. I do not think us consummating this marriage is a good idea, do you?”

“I think it is probably the best thing ye and I could do in this marriage. Ye cannot deny ye have been thinking about it, can ye?”

“I am not answering that question.”

“That gave me the only answer I needed to hear.” He smirked in a way that was infuriating and exciting at the same time.

“Your Grace, I?—”

“Keith. We have been over this. My name is Keith, and I will not have ye use my title now that we are married. My name is Keith, sweetheart. Use it.”

“Keith, then.” She tried out the name.

There was something so incredibly personal about it. Somehow, it had made the atmosphere in the music room even more intimate than before.