Page 31 of His Scottish Duchess (The Dukes of Sin #5)

EPILOGUE

A Month Later

“ A h—no! You’re cheating!”

Benedict rolled his eyes and gestured to the lawn before them. “I am not! You are the one who has performed some very strange tricks that one can only liken to witchcraft.”

“I beg your pardon?” Selina screeched, tossing her mallet aside.

Quickly, Aaron wrapped his arms around his wife, holding her back from killing his cousin and her brother-in-law.

“Breathe, darling. Your niece still needs her father, and our children still need their mother. There would be too many losses if you decide to commit murder on such a lovely day. Please, my love,” he pleaded, the look in his eyes betraying the fact that this was not the first time he tried to keep his wife from exploding.

Catherine beckoned Selina over, and the latter slipped away from her husband for the sake of her dear friend, who needed her attention.

“Yes, dear?” Selina asked, smiling at Catherine, murderous intent forgotten.

“Might we exchange mallets? I cannot seem to get a good grip on mine.”

“Oh, certainly, dearest.” Selina nodded, running back to where her mallet had been discarded to pick it up and offer it to Catherine, taking the one the younger woman held out to her.

“Thank you.” Catherine beamed innocently.

Selina squealed and wrapped her arms around Catherine, giggling happily as she said, “You are absolutely welcome, you precious darling!”

“How does your wife manage to take the grumpiest folks and turn them into pleasant people? I still marvel at the sorcery she employed to reform you, friend,” Benedict snorted, leaning towards Sampson.

Sampson could hardly disagree with the sentiment, having noticed that whenever Selina was particularly irritated, Catherine was quick to call her attention elsewhere, effectively calming her down.

Sampson also couldn’t deny that Catherine had influenced him somewhat, happy to admit to whoever would listen that his love for his wife had made his life much better over the past weeks.

As time had flown bySampson had undergone some sort of transformation, much like the seasons. The darkness that had clung to him for so long had begun to recede, replaced by a lightness of which he had never dared to dream. Sleep that had once evaded him or begrudgingly arrived with devasting nightmares now found him easily, and along with it came a sense of peace he had not known since he was but a young boy.

The shadows that resided in his eyes had lightened, and he had traded his mischievous smirk for a genuine smile that he often graced the public with, especially when his wife was with him.

Simply put, Sampson was happier than he would have thought was possible. And Catherine was the reason.

“What can I say? It is easy and worthwhile to love her.” He shrugged, watching as she knocked her ball through the last loop before the game ended with her as the victor. “Unlike you, who has spent years working hard to be seen as a blight on mankind.”

Benedict made to hit Sampson with his mallet, but he dropped it quickly when Catherine bounded over, excited and flushed.

“Sampson! I won!”

“Congratulations, Duchess.” Benedict smiled at her gently, before glaring at Sampson as he chuckled.

Sampson ignored his friend in favor of pulling his wife closer to reward her with a kiss.

“I saw,” he mumbled against her lips. “Excellent work, my dear.”

Catherine glowed beneath his praise, her cheeks darkening as she nodded shyly. “Thank you, darling.”

Eleanor raised her hand and beckoned them to where the rest of them were gathered, and Catherine clung to Sampson on the way there, listening to Benedict with rapt attention as he complained about the unsportsmanlike conduct that had nearly landed him in the lake a little ways from the property, and how he was seriously considering burying Frederick behind the property for such behavior.

It seemed as though Benedict quite liked having Catherine’s attention on him—as they all did, for which Sampson could not fault them. Although Eleanor’s house party had been rather impromptu, it was clear that a lot of thought had gone into the preparations. And the company was good—just a simple collection of people who shared an easy camaraderie, with a history of fond memories behind them.

Although Catherine was still fairly new to the group, her presence was as radiant as her happiness was infectious. It made many of the guests happy simply to be around her.

Sampson thought she looked especially beautiful that day, with her hair partially unbound and shining beneath the bright sun, a few playful tendrils framing her glowing face. Her green dress made her eyes glow like emeralds as she enthusiastically taught their friends a lively Scottish game with much clapping, stomping, and bursts of exuberant Gaelic.

“No, you’re doing it wrong!” she giggled, reaching forward to hold Thalia’s hands. “Like this.”

Eleanor and Frederick watched her with open affection, which made Sampson feel the need to give them a pointed reminder.

“She’s mine. Whatever ideas you might have to steal my wife from me should perish, henceforth. They will never work.”

Frederick grinned, seeing an opportunity to tease Sampson and his wife.

“I do not think you should underestimate my wife’s seductive power. And it has been established that Catherine adores Eleanor, so I believe we have a chance.”

“I would not count my chickens before they hatch if I were you,” Catherine said innocently, making Nora and Samuel snort. “I do adore Eleanor, but I’m afraid I favor my husband more. No matter what. And he knows that, so there is no use threatening him.”

Selina burst into peals of laughter, momentarily forgetting that she was in the middle of executing an intricate step of the game, which resulted in her nearly falling. Luckily, Aaron had been close enough to catch her before she fell to the floor, rolling his eyes fondly when she sighed and dramatically murmured, “My hero.”

“Pay them no mind, dear,” Thalia said gently as she linked arms with Catherine, leading her away from the miscreants. “Please come, and show me the rules again. I felt as though I nearly had it, but I kept tripping. Benedict, come and help me.”

Benedict, ever the attentive husband, swiftly made his way to Thalia’s side, watching her attempt the game with a fond smile under Catherine’s tutelage. Meanwhile, Nora and Samuel had their easygoing nature to thank for making them quick participants, as they stumbled through the steps with cheerful abandon, their amusement adding to the general merriment.

“This is actually quite fun!” Nora said with a grin. “Perhaps you should be in charge of the games during our next get-together. You clearly have a lot of interesting activities to share.”

“I do have a number of activities I would love to share. And it would be an honor to get to do that.”

“Easy, Duchess,” Frederick teased. “It is only a game. You needn’t feel too strongly about it.”

“But then that would mean I do not cherish each moment I spend with you all. And I do,” Catherine told him innocently, blinking up at him.

“Are you trying to deprive my wife of the joy she rightly deserves?” Sampson questioned, stepping closer to her whilst glaring at Fredrick.

“I said no such thing!” Frederick balked, clearly feeling awkward. “Eleanor?—”

“Absolutely not, my love. You know I cannot stand behind you on this. Not when Catherine is involved. I’m sorry.”

It was truly a wonder to see how Catherine had seamlessly woven herself into the fabric of their close-knit group. Sampson felt blessed when he realized that they had welcomed her not as his Duchess, but as Catherine, a woman of warmth, intelligence, and an indomitable spirit.

And she, in turn, had found in them companions and acquaintances that had made her feel cherished and accepted, relating to them with no thoughts spared to any lingering insecurities she might have once harbored about belonging in this new world. She basked in the easy companionship, the shared jokes, and the unspoken understanding between them.

Sampson had discovered a comfortable pastime watching her during every interaction, as a quiet pride swelled in his chest. He was filled with a profound sense of contentment to see her so genuinely happy, so completely at ease. His thoughts often strayed to how he had nearly lost her, his demons threatening to shatter the fragile happiness they had found.

But her unwavering love and her fierce belief in him had pulled him back from the brink. He knew he didn’t deserve her, not fully, not with the darkness of his past, but he would spend the rest of his life trying to be worthy of the love she so freely gave.

As the evening wore on, however, a different kind of longing began to stir within him. Surrounded by the din of the party, his gaze kept returning to Catherine, his awareness of her heightened.

He craved her attention, the feel of her hand in his, the radiance of her smile. Her interactions with their friends, while they brought him joy, also sparked a possessive urge, a desire to have her all to himself if only for a little while.

He made his way to her, his hand finding the small of her back, his touch firm yet gentle. Catherine turned, her face lighting up at the sight of him.

“Enjoying yourself, love?” he murmured, his voice low, a private intimacy offered amidst the surrounding revelry.

“Immensely,” she replied, her eyes sparkling with laughter. “They are all hopeless at the Highland Fling Clapping Game, but they are certainly enthusiastic. I am proud to have such eager students.”

Sampson’s gaze dropped to her lips and lingered there for a moment as a familiar heat rose within him.

“I believe it is time we said our farewells,” he said, his voice husky. “I find myself in need of… quieter company.”

A knowing smile spread across Catherine’s face, a spark of anticipation in her green eyes as her cheeks flushed pink. She squeezed his hand slightly and said, “In that case, my dear Duke, I believe I am ready to be escorted back to our room.”

Their goodbyes were warm but brief, a promise to attend the gatherings any of their friends might host in the future. As their carriage pulled away from Eleanor’s brightly lit house, a comfortable silence settled between them, the unspoken anticipation filling the space as they simply enjoyed each other’s embrace.

Back at Rosehall Estate, the quiet of their shared room was a welcome contrast to the lively energy of the party. Sampson shed his jacket, his gaze never leaving Catherine as she moved about the room, her movements fluid and graceful even in her obvious exhaustion.

He reached for her, pulling her gently into his arms. “I missed you tonight,” he murmured, burying his face in the soft curve of her neck, inhaling the familiar scent of lavender and roses.

“And I missed your quiet presence beside me,” she confessed, her arms wrapping around his waist, holding him close. “Though I must admit, I did enjoy seeing Frederick attempt the Heel-Toe Stamp of Utter Confusion.”

A chuckle rumbled in Sampson’s chest. He tilted her chin up, his eyes locking onto hers, the love he felt for her tangible in the air between them.

“You are a light in my life, Catherine,” he said, his voice thick with emotion. “A warmth I never thought I would find.”

He lowered his head, their lips meeting in a tender kiss that deepened with a familiar urgency. She leaned into him, wrapping her arms around him as he pulled her flush against him, moaning when he reached down to squeeze her buttocks.

“Is it bad that I wish to keep you with me at all times? Just you and me, in this room, away from prying eyes at all times. So your eyes will always be on me,” he whispered, trailing kisses down the curve of her neck as he stripped her of her dress.

“That’s—ah—not a bad idea. Just you and me, in our own world forever. Although, it is not as though you are not constantly the object of my attention and affection. I am always looking at you and to you. Only you.” She sighed as his hands roamed over her body, tracing her curves.

“Good,” he murmured against her lips as he lifted her into his arms and carried her to their bed. “That is exactly how it should be. Look at me—no one else but me.”

Catherine nodded, her cheeks flushed as he nudged her legs apart and thrust into her. She inhaled deeply, crying out when he pulled out almost immediately and slammed back into her. She clutched at his shoulders, whining as he set a fast pace that had her panting for breath.

“My love, my light,” Sampson grunted as his teeth scraped over her sensitive neck, nipping it and relishing the sound she let out. “Always so perfect for me.”

Catherine nodded, arching into his touch with a gasp as one of his hands kneaded her breast. He quickened his pace, and she writhed beneath him as her release drew closer.

“Sampson, love, I—please?—”

“I know, darling. I know,” he whispered huskily, before kissing her deeply. “Together?”

She nodded again, clenching down on his member as she fell into the abyss of passion, with him following right after, moaning long and loud.

For a moment, the only sound in the room was their heavy breathing as they kissed, their hearts beating wildly in harmony.

Later, as they lay tangled together beneath the soft linen sheets, the moonlight casting a silvery glow across their intertwined bodies, Catherine traced the lines of Sampson’s face, her touch gentle and loving. The shadows had truly receded, replaced by a quiet contentment and a sense of peace that radiated from him.

“You are sleeping better,” she murmured, her voice soft with affection.

Sampson captured her hand, pressing a kiss to her palm. “Because you are here,” he replied simply. “You have chased away the darkness, Catherine.”

She smiled, a radiant expression of the love that bound them together. In his arms, surrounded by the quiet intimacy of their room, she knew that their journey, though fraught with challenges, had led them to a love that was both enduring and profound.

And it filled her with even more hope for the future, eager to face whatever lay ahead of them because she knew without a doubt that they would not only survive but also thrive together.

“I love you,” she said simply.

Sampson tilted his head down and pressed his forehead against hers, responding in a soft voice, “And I love you.”

The End?