Page 20 of Claiming His Scottish Duchess (Scottish Duchesses #2)

Chapter Fifteen

“ I s fheàrr caraid na bràthair a thèid astar.” A friend who goes the distance is better than a brother.

Dear Eliza,

Life at Wilthorne has settled into a quiet hum of domesticity that is somehow both comforting and subtly unsettling. It is hard to find my way. The grand house is unfamiliar but has slowly begun to feel less like a cage and more like… home? Or at least, the beginnings of one.

Nothing will ever compare to Craigleith Hall and the hills of Scotland.

Please write as soon as you can and tell me what news you have of your own pursuits.

Your Friend, Catriona

Catriona finished the last of the morning’s correspondence before giving it to her maid to bring to the post. She longed to hear news from Eliza and her mother.

“Well, Lydia. What do ye think of a ride this mornin’? We could have the staff saddle up our horses?”

Lydia nodded eagerly and, after suiting up, they made their way to the stables.

“Acorn,” Lydia whispered to her horse, gently petting her coat.

Catriona placed a hand on her chest, reveling in the sound of Lydia’s sweet voice.

After mounting their horses, the two took off in a rush to explore the grounds. Once they’d made their way through most of the property, they stumbled upon a neglected corner of one of the flower gardens bathed in sunlight.

“Do ye see what I see, lass?” she asked her. “It’s a small garden, but we could make it so much more. What would ye think if we made this yer own, lassie?”

Lydia nodded excitedly as a smile formed at her lips.

“All right, lassie,” Catriona called to Lydia as they entered the stable a few days later, for what was becoming a regular practice. “The stable hand prepared the horses for us to ride this afternoon. Where would ye like to go today? The woods or the lake?”

“Lake,” Lydia responded softly.

“It’s as if ye read me mind, lassie. That’s where I want to go too!”

The two took off to the lake, where they dismounted their horses and sat by the shore. They looked at the water and up to the sky, where fluffy white clouds were rolling under the afternoon sun.

“In Scotland, there are many lakes much bigger than this,” Catriona explained. “In fact, they are so vast and so magical, there are creatures that live in them.”

“Like the s-s-s-s…” Lydia attempted.

“Aye, the selkies! But I dinnae wish to talk about them today. I want to tell ye a true story from when I was a wee lass, nae much older than ye. Would ye like to hear it?”

“Yes! Please!” she breathed out with a small clap.

“When I was little, me Cousin Isobel and I ventured off to the big lake near Craigleith Hall. It has to be at least twice the size of this one, if ye can imagine that! We were throwin’ stones to see who could go farthest, when I saw a beautiful lady in the middle of the lake!

I thought someone was out there swimmin’, but it was the middle of the autumn season.

The light caught her hair, and it looked like spun gold, with flowers all around it. And then, in a blink… she was gone!”

Lydia’s jaw dropped, and she let out a tiny gasp.

“My cousin and I figured it must have been a fairy or some other magical creature, but we never saw her again. Aye, she was so bonnie. I would have given anythin’ to look as she did with her beautiful golden hair.”

Lydia took a small curl from Catriona’s wild mane and tucked it behind her ear, shaking her head from side to side.

“Bonnie,” the little girl uttered softly, and a tingling warmth spread over Catriona’s chest.

She smiled at Lydia, “Thank ye, darlin’. Though I doubt I’m as bonnie as that fairy!”

Lydia shook her head persistently, then pointed at Catriona emphatically.

“Bonnie,” she repeated, and Catriona laughed.

“Aye lass, you’re right,” she replied, “If I didnae look like this, I wouldnae be me. And that’s nae good! Let’s start headin’ back.”

Lydia’s small face lit up with pride as they approached the garden on their way back to the manor. Tiny green shoots had emerged with the promise of blooms and beauty.

Then, Catriona noticed that Lydia’s gaze moved towards the house. Catriona followed the trail and caught sight of the duke in a distant window.

Lydia began waving frantically to get his attention. Yet the duke simply moved away from the window and out of their sight.

Lydia frowned, the light in her eyes dwindling.

“Come along, lass,” Catriona said as she pulled her into a tight embrace. “Let’s find some flowers to put in yer bonnie hair.”

As they wandered toward the garden, Lydia’s small fingers curled tightly around Catriona’s. The momentary shadow passed from the child’s face, replaced once more by the eager curiosity of youth.

They strolled among the blooming hedgerows, sunlight warming their backs, and Catriona began humming an old lullaby from the Highlands. Lydia giggled as she reached for a cluster of daisies, her earlier disappointment forgotten, at least for now.

Catriona smiled down at her, tucking a flower behind the girl’s ear. “There now. A princess, if ever I saw one.”

As they disappeared down the garden path, Catriona glanced back toward the house.

Toward the window.

Toward the man she’d been bound to—the man who turned away from the world.

And yet, heaven help her, her heart kept turning toward him.

A few afternoons later, Richard returned from business to find his niece high up in the branches of an ancient oak tree, perched precariously like a bird. His eyes wandered lower, where Catriona was clinging while she wildly waved encouragement to Lydia.

His protective instincts surged as he called them. “Duchess!” he barked, his voice sharp and biting. “What in God’s name do you think you two are doing?”

Catriona waved to him, her chestnut eyes sparkling with amusement. “We’re climbing a tree, Yer Grace! Ever hear of it? It’s quite exhilaratin’, ye should try it. I think this auld oak could hold ye!”

“Exhilarating?” he clipped, his gaze fixed on Lydia, who was now inching her way to a higher branch and reaching even higher. “It’s dangerous! She could fall!”

“Lydia’s a curious and capable bairn,” Catriona called back. “Besides, I’m right here, Yer Grace, she’s perfectly safe. She needs to learn to be brave and to find the fiery mare inside of her.”

“Brave? By making her climb a tree like some animal?” Richard’s voice rose.

“She is nae a porcelain doll to be locked away with the key around yer neck! She needs to experience life, nae just stuffy dinner parties. She needs to feel the sun on her face! The wind in her hair!”

Richard’s eyes, though narrowed in disapproval, couldn’t help but linger on the way the sunlight caught in Catriona’s hair, revealing radiant wisps of auburn in her ebony locks. He wished he could catch that defiant chin of hers and teach that disobedient mouth a lesson.

“I am trying to keep her safe,” Richard said, his voice edged with anger.

“And I am tryin’ to help her live,” Catriona replied, her own anger subsiding, replaced by a weary understanding of his fear.

The moment hung between them, thick with unspoken words. He felt the ghost of her touch, the memory of her soft kiss. The air thrummed with a tension that he knew had nothing to do with Lydia perched in the tree above.

Richard narrowed his eyes at his wife. “Get her down. Now.”

Catriona half-sighed, half-groaned, and turned her attention back to Lydia, her voice softening as she guided the girl down from her leafy perch.

Swiftly, Lydia landed on her feet without a scratch, looking up at Catriona as the duchess began her own descent.

As she swung down from the branches, her skirts hitched and her body taut with movement, Richard’s jaw tensed. She dangled there for a breath too long—mischievous, unaware, or perhaps entirely deliberate.

The soft stretch of her limbs, the curve of her waist, the flash of her ankle—every line of her called to him, stirred something primal.

God help him, even now, with a child nearby and fury in his chest, he wanted her.

As Catriona grabbed the lower branch, a sudden, sharp crack split the air. The branch splintered beneath her grip, and for a split second, her body hung suspended, the tension in the air as thick as the silence.

“Whoa!” Catriona cried out.

She began to fall, her body dropping downward, her feet flailing for purchase.

Richard’s heart slammed in his chest as he reacted instinctively. He dove forward, his muscles coiled with the adrenaline coursing through him.

Her form tumbled toward the ground at an unforgiving pace.

The damn fool woman—she was going to land badly, hurt herself…

But he was too fast, too furious to let that happen.

He caught her midair, his arms slamming around her waist just in time to break the fall.

The impact rattled them both, her body colliding into his chest, and for a second, everything froze.

Catriona gasped, “Och!”

Her warmth, her softness, pressed into him with an intensity that was almost suffocating. His heartbeat pounded against his ribs, and his grip on her tightened, not out of caution, but sheer, uncontrollable need.

He stared down at her, their faces inches apart. Her wide eyes met his, and for a moment, it was as if the entire world had narrowed to just the two of them, suspended in that one charged instant.

He could feel her breath on his skin, her body pressed into his so intimately, and it took all his effort not to react more strongly.

“Are you…?” he started, the words too thick, too rough in his throat.

He had meant to ask if she was all right, but the question sounded useless with the way his voice had dropped—like he was asking for something else entirely.

She opened her mouth as though to respond, but the words stalled in her throat, and her gaze flickered to his lips, just for a moment.

Damn it .

He could feel his control slipping, the magnetism between them undeniable, and before he could stop himself, he found himself leaning just a fraction closer, drawn to the pulse at her throat.

“Cat!” Lydia gasped as she got to her feet.

Then, just as quickly, he jerked back, his mind screaming at him to rein it in, especially in front of Lydia.

“Try exploring and living without falling out of trees from now on,” Richard growled as he placed Catriona on her feet and stormed out of sight.

Still, the warmth of her body lingered all over him, and he cursed under his breath.

Why did she always shatter the control he’d fought so hard to maintain?