Page 3 of A Highland Duke to Claim Her Heart

Am I depriving my daughter of a mother by refusing to consider remarrying?He wondered.Am I being selfish not to think of her needs above my own?

It wasn’t the first time he had wondered this, but with Christopher’s upcoming marriage, it had been on his mind of late. He wanted to give Annabelle everything, to ensure she had the best childhood and life possible. And maybe a mother was an essential part of that.

Before he could dwell on this any longer, however, there was a knock on the door, and a footman entered holding a silver tray with a letter on it.

“This just came for you, Your Grace,” he said, bowing and holding out the tray. “It came by express.”

Ewan frowned as he took it. As he recognized his brother’s handwriting on the outside, his feeling of trepidation only increased. Ripping open the letter, he read it quickly.

With every line, his stomach seemed to hollow out.

Dearest Brother,

I hope that this letter finds you well—better, in fact, than I have been. I fear that I have news you will find most unpleasant. My upcoming nuptials have thrown into sharp relief how little of the world I have seen and how soon my ability to see it will be curtailed. In light of this, I have decided to set out on a short trip to the Continent, where I might enjoy the last few weeks of my freedom away from the prying, gossiping eyes of London. A man, after all, must have his freedom, and sow his wild oats, before he is shackled forever in the state of matrimony.

I will, of course, return before the wedding, to meet my blushing bride at the altar! Fear not, brother, this is not anescape from the wedded bliss I know awaits me, but merely a jaunty sojourn across the sea to taste the last, delicious fruits of the bachelor’s life.

Your ever loving brother,

Christopher

Ewan’s face was hot and his hands were shaking when he looked up from the letter. He knew he could not say anything in front of Annabelle, but she clearly could read his expression, because she said, “Is everything well, Papa?”

“Y-yes,” Ewan said, touching the top of his daughter’s head. “Now you go back to your lesson. I will see you tonight for dinner.”

It was only once he had left the nursery that he handed the letter to Alaric, who was watching him with concern. Alaric’s mouth fell open as he read the letter.

“But… He cannot do this,” he whispered. “The bride and her mother are arriving within three days!”

“I know,” Ewan said grimly. “I must fix this. Before anyone discovers the truth.”

Chapter 2

Out the window of the carriage, the fields of the Scottish Highlands stretched as far as Lady Cassandra Pembury could see, uninterrupted vistas of red and purple heather, of green fields, dotted by sheep grazing and the occasional small, stone hut, from which smoke rose lazily, filling the air with the charred scent of peat.

It was, by far, the most beautiful landscape Cassandra had ever seen. And she had thought she would be hard to impress, after twenty-two years in the Cornish countryside. Cornwall was breathtaking, with its sheer cliffs, its verdant fields, and the wild ocean raging below.

But this landscape—the mountains, the colors, the way one side of a mountain was almost black from its shadow, only for the shadow to shift and a blaze of red heather to appear—took her breath away.

Maybe this is reason enough to marry a man I hardly know and trust even less,she thought, a twinge of unease shooting through her stomach.To get to live here.

“Stop staring out of the window, Cassandra,” her mother, Lady Pembury, said from the seat across from her, and Cassandra sat back, blinking. Her mother frowned at her. “You will catch a tan if you stick your head out into the sun like that all day. You arealready too tall as it is and have all those horrible freckles from gardening all day long.”

“Lord Christopher knows what I look like,” Cassandra said, folding her arms, her sharp blue eyes flashing with annoyance. “I do not think he will call off the whole wedding just because I am a little tan.”

Lady Pembury pursed her lips. “I do not expect him to call off the wedding,” she said. “With the generosity of your dowry, he would be a fool to do so. He is a second son, after all.” The feeling of unease squirmed again in Cassandra’s stomach at her mother’s unapologetic, mercenary way of speaking about her marriage. “But it is still important to make a good first impression.”

Cassandra frowned. “But Lord Christopher and I have met. Many times. It is not a first impression.”

“Not on Lord Christopher,” her mother said waspishly. “I am speaking of his brother, of course. The duke. It is important that you make a good impression on him.”

“Why?” Cassandra asked, her frown deepening. “It is not him I will be marrying. Anyway, he has already given his blessing to the match.”

Her mother sighed. “Oh, Cassandra. For such a smart girl, sometimes you can be rather slow.” Her mother leaned forward,as if she were about to impart a great secret. “This marriage, while advantageous, is still only to a second son. Your settlement is generous, and you will be comfortable, but it is thedukewho holds the strings to your future husband’s purse. It is him to whom you will have to turn if you are ever in need of a loan, or a gift… anything! Which is why it is essential that you charm him. Make him feel that his brother has found a woman of the rarest quality. Someone whom he wants to help as much as his own family.”

Cassandra swallowed.A woman of the rarest quality.She thought well of herself, but how was anyone supposed to live up to so much pressure?

“You were the one who insisted upon wanting to travel up to Calder Castle early,” her mother continued. “Your father and I were happy to wait until the wedding to deliver you up to Scotland. But you were the one who said you wanted to spend more time with your fiance. Well, now is your chance not only to ingratiate yourself to Lord Christopher further, but to charm his brother.”