Page 30 of His Scottish Duchess (The Dukes of Sin #5)

CHAPTER THIRTY

“ W ake up, my love. I have big plans for us today.”

Catherine groaned and rolled onto her side, burying her face in her husband’s chest. It felt good to feel the vibrations of his chuckles, but she decided sleep was also a provider of noteworthy sensations and tried to return to the quiet embrace of rest.

“Catherine,” Sampson whispered in her ear as his fingertip gently caressed the side of her face. “Please wake up.”

Catherine whined and made to move away, only to be pulled back into his arms and kissed deeply. His lips were warm on hers, and soon she was kissing him back, her hand coming up to pull him closer by the back of his neck.

When they pulled apart, her eyes fluttered open, and she smiled up at him. “Good morning, husband.”

Sampson grinned at her, leaning down to press rapid, chaste kisses to her cheeks and lips.

“Good morning, my love. Did you sleep well?”

“I certainly would’ve slept much better if I was allowed to wake up when I wished to,” she complained, burying her face in his chest again.

Sampson laughed and wrapped his arms around her, nuzzling her hair. “My deepest apologies, my dear. But as I said, I have a few things I would like to do with you today, and we won’t be able to get most of them done if we don’t get an early start on our day.”

That got Catherine’s attention. She lifted her head and looked at her husband with thinly veiled suspicion. “What do you mean?”

Sampson exhaled and tucked a lock of her hair behind her ear. “I realized that I haven’t really spent time with you. The longest we’ve been around each other ever since we got married was when your family came over. And I would like to dedicate today to being in your presence and reveling in your beauty.”

Catherine blushed and smiled up at him. “That sounds like a wonderful idea, Sampson. What did you have in mind?”

“First, breakfast,” he said, urging her to sit up.

Catherine felt her heart swell with joy. She had longed to share meals with her husband, to simply engage in simple, gentle conversation. Knowing that he had planned for exactly that to happen made her incredibly happy.

“All right,” she murmured, leaning forward to give him a chaste kiss. “Let me get ready and meet you downstairs for breakfast.”

“Do not be gone for too long. I fear I might miss you too much.” Sampson grinned at her.

She laughed and ran a hand through his hair, pressing a kiss to his forehead before she slipped out of bed.

Quickly, she made her way to her room, calling for Anna.

“Your Grace?” the maid called, looking a little startled.

“Help me get ready. I’m going to have breakfast with my husband,” Catherine said, blushing.

Anna smiled slowly and nodded. “Right away, Your Grace.”

It had only been two days since they had returned to England, and they had hardly spent any time out of each other’s presence. Catherine had immediately set to work, caring for Sampson’s well-being, urging him to eat and rest with her.

Sampson had complained at first, but he quickly bent to her will, more content to lay down with her in his arms. He had a few nightmares during the night, but she was always there to hold him and offer him comfort.

It felt like a dream, to have such transparency between them. They hadn’t talked about having children again, and Catherine was perfectly fine to postpone that conversation until they were at a healthier, happier place and even more comfortable with each other.

For now, she was content to know that he loved her immensely.

“There, Your Grace. You look perfect.” Anna beamed at her reflection in the mirror.

Truly, Catherine was pleased with how she looked. She glanced down at the pale pink dress Anna had picked for her. Her auburn hair had been brushed until it shone and left to cascade over her shoulders and down her back.

Eager to return to her husband’s side, Catherine offered her thanks to her maid, hiked up her skirts, and hurried out of the room. She met Mrs. Starling in the hallway.

The housekeeper bowed respectfully before gesturing to the door of the sunroom. “His Grace is waiting for you, Your Grace.” She smiled.

Catherine nodded, suddenly feeling nervous as she turned the knob and pushed open the door.

The first thing she noted was a bouquet of hydrangeas held out to her.

She blinked, momentarily startled by the mass of pale pink and blue petals. Slowly, she raised her eyes to her husband’s blue ones.

“What’s this?”

Sampson shook the bouquet lightly until she took it from him, explaining softly, “I’ve never given you flowers. I’ve never given you any gifts, and that was remiss of me, as your husband.”

Catherine’s expression softened. “Oh, Sampson, you’ve done quite a lot for me already. Having new dresses made for me, letting me host a ball, and inviting my family to stay with us. You have done much more than I can say—they’re all priceless gifts.”

“But they’re still not enough. You deserve to be spoiled, to feel like the wife of a duke. That is what I want for you. So let me do this.”

Agreeing with him was easy, despite the fierce heat in her cheeks.

“All right. Thank you.” She smiled, looking down at the beautiful flowers.

Sampson guided her to the table, pulling out a chair for her and waiting until she was comfortably seated before he pushed it forward.

“Additionally, you asked me to add some romance before I asked you to join me on an outing. So… my lovely darling, would you do me the honor of accompanying me to the theater tonight? I cannot promise the play will be thrilling, but I am sure it is going to be interesting, at least.”

Catherine’s heart melted instantly. “You remembered.”

“Of course.” He nodded proudly. “Despite my mistakes, I do try to be a man of my word.”

“I know.” Catherine laughed softly. “I would love to watch a play with you. Entertaining or not.”

“Oh, trust me, you will be entertained. I heard that Madame Erica is part of the cast. She tends to expose the dirty laundry of the other performers. It always devolves into quite a spectacle.” He poured her a cup of tea. “How many spoons of sugar would you like?”

Catherine grinned. “That does sound like an interesting experience. And two spoons are enough. Thank you, dear.”

She nodded in gratitude, preening as he rose to press a kiss to her cheek.

“Here’s to us, and the lovely day we have ahead,” he toasted, raising his teacup.

Catherine smiled and raised hers as well. “Here’s to us.”

“I had no idea London was so… vibrant.”

“You should see it in the summer and spring. That’s when we have festivals, house parties, and such. I have a house in the countryside that is close to a town that hosts a pastry festival every spring. I am almost certain that you have not tried anything as delicious as what they serve there. And it runs well into the night.” Sampson grinned.

After breakfast, Sampson thought they could promenade around the streets of London, to pass the time before their play began in the afternoon. Catherine, who hadn’t had the chance to explore London yet, was thrilled by the suggestion.

Whatever storefront or stall caught her attention, Sampson was all too happy to guide her to it. It gave him no small joy to see her so excited.

“Into the night? Did you stay the whole day?” she asked, stopping by a cart of flowers to purchase a single daisy, which she tucked into the front pocket of his jacket with a pout. “The flowers you got me were much prettier, but I wanted to give you one too.”

“This is just perfect, darling,” Sampson told her sincerely. “And no, I never attended during the day. I’d set out in the evening and spend the night roaming the festival grounds. It seemed like the best use of my time, considering that I couldn’t sleep either way.”

Catherine’s slight pout turned into a frown. “I’m sorry. You struggled so much in the past—even after we got married—and I did not know the extent of it. I am really sorry, Sampson.”

Sampson exhaled and pulled her closer. “You have nothing to be sorry for. Perhaps if I had been more willing to have an honest marriage with you, the burdens I had endured would not have persisted to this extent. And you have brought me so much comfort in the last few weeks than I have had in the last ten years of my life. I cannot even begin to thank you for the peace you have brought me. I am grateful, my love, for everything you have done. For what we have to look forward to, as well.”

“Thank you for trusting me to take care of you,” she sighed softly.

Sampson still could not believe that the experiences he had gone through in the last few days were real. He couldn’t believe that she loved him and that she had chosen to stay. While he had no doubts about it, everything still felt too good to be true.

He felt confident that his nightmares would not haunt him for much longer, and he was eager to spend the rest of his days gazing upon his wife’s face. He wished to spoil her, to ravish and adore her. And he had no plans to restrain himself from doing precisely that.

He spotted a jewelry shop and grinned as a thought occurred to him.

“Come with me, my love,” he crooned, gently leading Catherine through the streets.

Her eyes lit up as they walked into the shop, and he let her roam around, watching as she admired the glittering pieces.

Sampson had long since considered buying her something as a reward for successfully hosting a ball, and now he wished to adorn her with a token of his love.

But back then, he did not want to risk buying her something she might not like. Now, he could get her something she would definitely like.

“But what are we?—”

“I want to give you a gift. Whatever you want, whatever your heart desires. Pick it and I’ll buy it,” he urged.

“But—why?” She blinked at him, confused.

“Because you are beautiful and the love of my life,” he murmured, leading her to a display that had all sorts of pendants and earrings behind it. “What would you like? A bracelet? A necklace? A pair of diamond earrings?”

Catherine’s eyes darted around the shop, and she gasped when something caught her eye. Before he could ask what it was, she pulled him in the direction of what she was looking at. He followed her obediently, a little surprised when they ended up before a display of rings.

“I want to have something that would connect us. We don’t have wedding rings, so I thought…” she trailed off, looking uncertain.

“You want us to have the same one?” Sampson asked, a little surprised.

“Do you not want to?—”

“No, darling. No. I want to. I’m just… I didn’t expect you to think of me, much less pick an item we could both have.”

Catherine’s face flushed a shade he was far too fond of, and she lowered her gaze shyly.

“Well… I would like something that will make me think of you whenever I look at it, and something that will always make me feel connected to you. I want it to be obvious that I belong to you, and no one else.”

Sampson grinned wolfishly, leaning closer to whisper in her ear, “Knowing that you wish to wear my mark so visibly makes me happier than you’ll understand. I am quite touched, Duchess.”

Catherine took a step back and continued to avoid his gaze, pointing to the display as her cheeks reddened further.

“Wh-Which design would you like?”

“Whatever you pick is fine with me. Go on,” he urged, feeling quite pleased.

She glared at him without any heat but did as he had requested, peering closer at the rings.

“This one,” she said, tapping the screen lightly. “It looks simple but elegant, so it’ll suit you as well.”

Sampson beckoned the store owner over—a balding man who introduced himself as John Bennet—and gestured to the rings Catherine had chosen.

The sizing process was quite quick, and soon they left the store with gold bands on their ring fingers, with a pattern of ivy twisting around the outer side of the band.

“And just in time for our play.” Sampson beamed at her as he guided her to the carriage.

When they settled inside, Catherine placed her hand in her lap and stared at the ring on her finger, the soft sunrays streaming in through the window making it shine.

“Are you all right, my love? If you do not like it, we can get another.”

“What?” She looked up at him with tears in her eyes. “No—no, Sampson. I’m… I’m really happy. I feel absolutely happy right now. I can’t even explain it.”

Sampson’s heart swelled with joy, and all he could do was hold her in his arms and tell her, “I am glad you like it. Nothing makes me happier than knowing you like my gift. I hope it connects us for a long time.”

The play was a true spectacle, just like Sampson promised.

Madame Erica must have been fighting with the female lead because she was more than happy to let her numerous affairs slip while reciting her lines. She was such a wonderful actress that it had taken the audience a long while to realize she was actually spilling the real secrets of her costar.

Besides that, getting to watch a live theatre production was truly exciting. The amount of work that went into bringing the story to life was one that Catherine could hardly fathom, which made her appreciate each detail even more. From the costumes to the small orchestra that had provided the interlude between the acts.

At the end of the day, Catherine was very pleased with how the day went.

“I still cannot believe that she was Miss Linda’s mother all along! I never would have suspected it,” she said, still in awe.

“I have to admit, I am quite impressed as well. And I am very pleased to know you enjoyed yourself.”

“I did. I really did. Can we watch more plays in the future?”

Sampson nodded. “Certainly, darling. Whatever it is you want, let me know and I’ll provide it for you. Even if I have to pull a star from the sky.”

Catherine stopped walking outside the theatre and held his hands.

“Whatever we want. I appreciate that you want to provide for me, and I couldn’t be luckier even if I tried. But I want our future to consist of moments between us. I want it to be about us , our wants, and our desires, not just about me. Let us make great memories together, you and me,” she said earnestly.

Sampson’s lips curled into one of the soft, gentle smiles she had fallen in love with over and over again, and this time was no different when he squeezed her hands and said, “I would love nothing more. Let us live, for us.”

At that moment, she couldn’t have felt any safer or any more loved. His embrace had become so familiar that it had begun to feel like home when she stepped into it, her heart thrumming with excitement to spend the rest of her days with him.

“Yes. For us, my love.”