Page 105 of The Scottish Duke's Deal

He looked away, out the window, watching London roll past in grey and gold. His mind turned over the letter again—the handwriting, the ink, the cruelty.

Does your duchess know what you did?

It had arrived three weeks after the wedding. Ramsay had assumed Callum had heard of the announcement and rushed off a second warning, but something about the timing gnawed at him now.

His fingers tapped restlessly against his knee. “The letter,” he murmured.

“What?” Lady Fraser asked.

“The first one I received. The one that started all this. It arrived three months after I inherited the title—blackmail, threatening to expose me to society. The second came less than three weeks after my marriage.”

“And?”

“Callum is in the Highlands. He wouldn’t have heard about the marriage the day it was announced. It took you more than a week to hear about it and then two weeks to arrive here.” He sat straighter, brow furrowing. “It would’ve taken him nearly a week to find a courier, and at least another week for it to arrive.”

“Unless he used one of his own men,” she suggested.

“He probably did,” Ramsay said slowly. “But even so… it was too fast.”

Lady Fraser raised a brow. “Too fast for what?”

“For someone sending a letter from Scotland.”

He said it without meaning to. The words slipped out, quiet, half-formed, as his mind began to churn. He stared out the window, not really seeing the street beyond—just cobblestones and blur.

His pulse began to climb.

Not even three weeks. That’s how long it had been since the wedding. He’d assumed the letter had been written in haste. That Callum had heard the news and sent word immediately.

Unless…

Unless the letter hadn’t comefromthe Highlands.

He sat straighter, breath catching low in his chest. Unless Callum had already been?—

His gaze narrowed. He blinked once. Then again.

Damn it.He hadn’t seen it before. Hadn’t wanted to see it. But now it unfurled slowly with sickening clarity. His heart stuttered.

The letter had arrivedtoo soon.

He looked at his grandmother. His voice came rough. “He was already in England.”

Lady Fraser frowned. “You’re certain?”

Ramsay didn’t speak. He was calculating, replaying the details as his stomach twisted.

Callum had written that letter knowing Ramsay would think it came from Scotland. Knowing it would shake him just enough to make him leave Eleanor. It hadn’t been a warning. It had been a trap.

Ramsay’s breath went shallow. His eyes widened.

“Oh, damn,” he whispered.

He sat up and slammed his fist twice against the roof of the carriage.

The driver’s voice came muffled through the wood. “Yes, Your Grace?”

“Turn back,” Ramsay barked. “Immediately. Back to the house. Go as fast as the horses can manage.”