Page 36 of A Scottish Widow for the Duke

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His mixed signals infuriated her, which somehow only made her crave him more. That was what truly infuriated her. In fact, he had been silent and distant all morning, even as they broke their fast a mere six feet from each other.

“Lady Inverhall, I presume,” cooed an older gentleman with a balding head and broad smile. “I am His Grace’s cousin on his father’s side, Lord Gerson. A pleasure to make your acquaintance, and to see you as well, Your Grace.”

“The pleasure is ours,” Hugo said, shaking his cousin’s hand.

“This is quite a grand tea party,” Elspeth noted as Lord Gerson took her hand and kissed it. “Thank ye for havin’ us.”

“Well, enough talking with the likes of me. You two enjoy the festivities. The tea cakes are a delight, do try one!” Lord Gerson urged, before walking away to receive a group of guests.

Just as Hugo was about to introduce her to a formidable-looking lord, a joyful cry pierced the polite hum of conversation. Elspeth looked up, and a wide grin spread across her face, her emerald-green eyes sparking with all the luminescence of a shining gem.

Ach, that cannae be.

“Elspeth! Is that truly you?” a familiar voice shouted from across the room.

“Oh, me goodness, Verity! It is Elspeth,” another familiar voice cried.

Elspeth’s head snapped around as she scanned the room. Standing near a potted palm, two familiar faces beamed at her: Verity, now the Marchioness of Wrotham, and beside her, Marion, the Duchess of Greystead.

A wave of relief washed over her at the sight of her two dear friends, dispelling the suffocating tension that had clung to her since dawn.

“Oh, Verity! Marion!” she exclaimed, her face lighting up.

She moved toward them, her steps quickening along with her heartbeat. She so desperately needed a familiar face, and now she had two.

“Friends of yours, Lady Inverhall?” Hugo inquired, his tone neutral as he looked toward them.

“Indeed, Yer Grace,” Elspeth replied, turning back to him. “Lady Verity Drummond, the Marchioness of Wrotham, and Lady Marion Drummond, the Duchess of Greystead. My dear friends, Verity, Marion, may I present the Duke of Arrowfell?”

Hugo offered a curt nod, his gaze sweeping over the two women. “A pleasure to meet you, ladies.” He then turned to Elspeth. “I shall leave you to catch up. I have a few acquaintances to greet.”

With a brief nod, he melted into the crowd, leaving Elspeth with her friends.

“Oh, Elspeth, it has been far too long!” Verity cried as she embraced her warmly. “We had heard rumors that you were in London, but finding you amidst this crush has been a challenge! We were not sure where you were staying?—”

“And with the Duke of Arrowfell, no less!” Marion added, her eyes wide with curiosity. “He is rather imposin’, isnae he?”

Elspeth managed a wry smile as she ushered them out of the throng. “Imposin’ is one word for it. Come, let us find a quieter corner. There is much to tell since the last time I saw ye both.”

They settled on a small settee tucked away in an alcove, away from the crowd. Elspeth took a deep breath and a long sip of her Earl Grey, then launched into an abridged but vivid account of her arrival in London, Hugo’s intentions for her future, and the escalating tension between them. She recounted the ball, the dance, and the infuriating way Hugo had acted afterward. She omitted the most intimate details of the previous night, but her flushed cheeks and the tremor in her voice conveyed enough.

“He actuallyforbadeyou from flirting with another man, even after he has made it his life’s mission to find you a suitable husband?” Verity gasped, her hand flying to her mouth. “The sheer audacity!”

“Aye, he is more confusin’ than a drunken priest at the pulpit,” Marion joked. “Too many puzzlin’ messages, but I think his tenacity betrays him.”

“And then he… well, he kissed me again,” Elspeth confessed, her voice barely above a whisper as she looked at her friends. “And then… he was utterly insufferable afterwards, as if it meant nothin’ to him.”

Marion’s eyes widened. “Well, he sounds like a brute to me, Elspeth! A real arse if ye ask me. Are ye quite all right? Ye could stay with Anselm and me.”

“I am… I am fine,” Elspeth assured, though her fingers were twisting the fabric of her gown. “But it is all so frustratin’! Everythin’ I try, every attempt to make him see reason, to make him leave me alone, it just backfires. He is so stubborn, sodetermined to have his way. I am startin’ to think I will never be rid of him. I am gettin’ a bit discouraged, to be honest. I cannae see the path ahead and?—”

Verity reached out and took her hand. “Do not say that, Elspeth! You have always been the most determined person I know, even since we were girls at the Lake District. Remember your goal; it is your freedom. This is just a temporary setback. You have faced far worse, and here you are.”

“She is right,” Marion chimed in. “You dinnae give up easily, especially nae to the likes of him. Aye, there must be another way to outwit him.”

“Now you are talking,” Verity said as she sipped her tea. “We just need to think of him as a character. What are his motivations?”

“He doesnae matter.” Elspeth forced a bright smile. “Ye are both right, of course. I just needed to hear it. I will find a way through this. Thank ye, both. I feel much better already by just seeing ye.”