The Scot is Hers by Eliza Knight

10

The following morning, Giselle woke to her maid bringing in breakfast and Volume II in the Anonymous Woman’s Pride and Prejudice novel. She couldn’t have been more delighted. With the scent of bacon and sweet scones, she dove right into the novel.

Without words, Alec was showing a side of himself that she could have never dreamed of. Cooped up in this room no longer felt like a torment but a treat.

After breakfast, her maid returned, finding Giselle deep in the novel, which she reluctantly set aside to get ready for the day. Fortunately, Jaime had brought enough clothes with her to stay a month, and so there was plenty for Giselle to wear. Perks of being a duchess.

As a bonus, Giselle’s ankle didn’t hurt nearly as much as it had the day before, though it was still sore. A small bruise surrounded the injury, but it looked like a lot of the swelling had gone down.

After getting ready, she settled in the window seat to read, watching out the window as those in the party went for a stroll in the sunshine and again when the men went out for a hunt. By mid-afternoon, she’d completed Volume II and was getting ready to fashion a crutch from her bedpost in order to find the library when her tea arrived with the final volume of the novel on the tray.

“Please thank Lord Errol for me.”

“Aye, my lady. I will.”

By evening, the men had returned from the hunt, and Giselle could hear a conversation going on downstairs. A knock sounded at her door, and she straightened up, wondering if it was Alec, but Jaime popped her head in.

“Oh! I’m so glad to see ye,” Giselle said.

“I’m sorry I have no’ been by yet today.” Jaime smiled brightly and rushed in to sit beside Giselle in the window seat and grasped her hand. “Can ye keep a secret?”

Giselle leaned forward, all of her attention on her friend. “Aye, of course.”

“I’ve been a bit under the weather today.” Jaime’s large smile did not convey the correct emotion for being ill.

Giselle frowned, recalling how the night before, Jaime had looked suddenly ill in the parlor and dashed out. She hoped she wasn’t coming down with something. “And ye are well now?”

Jaime nodded emphatically. She touched her hands to her belly. “I believe I’m with child.”

“Oh, my goodness, that is marvelous news.” Giselle wrapped her arms around Jaime and pulled her in for a hug. Until that moment, she’d never really thought about being a mother, or even Jaime being a mother, but the prospect was exciting.

“I’ve missed two courses now and just started getting sick the last couple of days.”

“I hate to wish ye ill, but in this circumstance, it is a good thing,” Giselle said with a laugh. “Does Lorne know?”

“No’ yet, I want to surprise him.”

“My lips are sealed.” Giselle made a motion of locking her lips closed.

“I’m so glad I could tell ye this secret. I was nearly bursting all day in my chamber.”

“I have news for ye too.” Giselle grinned. “I am to be married.”

Jaime’s smile fell. “Ye decided to go back to Sir Joshua?” She frowned and shook her head. “And how could ye possibly be happy about that? As your friend, I must advise—”

Giselle squeezed Jaime’s hand and interrupted her. “I assure ye, I’m no’ daft. Alec proposed to me last night—well, sort of proposed—and I agreed.”

“Sort of?” Jaime cocked her head to the side.

“It is more of an agreement.” The kiss they shared flashed into her mind, and a blast of heat flooded her veins. It had felt like a lot more than an agreement.

“An agreement?” Jaime asked.

Giselle shook her head, trying to force the thoughts of kissing from her mind. “Aye. He will marry me to keep his mother from meddling, and I will marry him to get me away from Sir Joshua.” She didn’t mention to Jaime that this would also help Alec settle an age-old score with Joshua. She was well aware of the implications of their marriage on the two men’s past discord.

“Ah.” But Jaime didn’t look thrilled; she looked sad.

Giselle stilled. “What? Is he no’ a good man?” Every bone in her body denied that.

Jaime shook her head, a soft, hesitant smile on her lips. “Nay, nay. Alec is a verra good man.”

“I think so too. And I think I shall be happy.” Still, she wished Jaime would divulge what was on her mind.

Jaime brightened, grasping both of Giselle’s hands in hers. “Are ye certain? I would never want anything less than for ye to be happy.”

Giselle glanced down at Volume III, which she’d completed, and Jaime followed her gaze.

“Pride and Prejudice? Was it good?”

Giselle let out a happy sigh. “Aye. Alec sent up each volume with my meals.”

“He knows ye like to read?”

Giselle nodded, and Jaime’s smile grew wider.

“I have to say, Giselle, that is rather romantic.” Jaime sighed. “I think your arrangement may have the potential for more.”

“I would hope it could, but even if no’, I will be satisfied.” That was only partly true. She longed for love, but in her current situation, this was the perfect solution. If she were able to read and kiss him the way that he’d done last night...Well, she’d be quite happy, she was certain.

Jaime’s eyes twinkled. “So what will ye gift him in return after his generous and romantic gesture?”

Giselle’s eyes widened in surprise. “I had no’ thought about it. I’ve nothing. No’ even my own clothes.” She indicated the gown she was wearing today, which was light green with dark green ribbons on the bodice.

Jaime frowned. “Aye, that is true. We shall have to think about it. Romantic gestures go both ways and are a good way to say ye care without the use of words.”

Giselle agreed, and she did want to show Alec in some way how thankful she was he’d done that for her.

“I know one way that ye can start,” Jaime said. “By coming downstairs. He is inundated by the women, especially your favorite, Lady Mary.”

Giselle rolled her eyes. “That lass is a piece of work.”

“Aye, and she’s made it verra clear to the other ladies in attendance that she intends to win him herself.”

Giselle laughed. “If only she knew he was already taken.”

“Exactly.” Jamie gave her a conspiratorial wink.

“I could have myself announced by his butler as his betrothed, but do ye no’ think that would make him angry? He’s yet to tell his mother.” Giselle rolled her eyes and then glanced out the window as if expecting the woman to be below the window, listening. “She terrifies me.”

“How do ye know he has no’ told her?”

“Because that dragon could no’ wait to get me out of her parlor last night. If he’d told her that he was going to marry me, she’d have been up here in a flash to give me a dressing down. Maybe even had her butler send me packing. I’m no’ certain why she dislikes me. I hardly remember ever interacting with her in Edinburgh.”

Jaime shrugged. “She seems to think her son deserves a certain type of woman if ye can believe it from the lasses downstairs. And ye are nothing like them.”

Giselle thought of all the frippery and empty-headedness. Was that the type of woman the countess thought Alec liked or deserved? Someone who would simper and fawn. A plaything, but not having her own mind. She supposed then it was understandable why Giselle would not be looked at in the same light. “So verra accurate.”

“How does your ankle feel?”

Giselle lifted her leg, twirling her ankle as gingerly as she could manage. “Much better, though it is still a bit achy and weak when I walk. I’ve been able to maneuver about my room today, hopping and using furniture to hold onto. Progress.” She laughed and then stood, testing her ankle. It still ached when she put weight on it. “If I go downstairs, I’ll likely no’ be able to stand by his side for long.”

Jaime tapped her chin. “Hmm. I have an idea. What if I arrange for a game of cards, and then ye’ll be sitting? And I’ll have your maid bring ye a cane. I’m sure they have one somewhere in this house; it will help ye walk unassisted and without hopping.”

Giselle hated being so incapacitated as to be able to walk on her own barely. She was used to being active, but more so, to being able to escape any situation without the help of others.

“That would be verra nice, and I do so much appreciate it.”

“’Tis settled then. Ye’ve got plenty of gowns now, aye? Do ye need any more?”

Giselle shook her head. “I can no’ thank ye enough for clothing me. I suppose I should send for my things at some point, but I’m afraid of what will happen when I do.”

“Ye’re welcome to as many gowns as ye like. But ’tis better to yank out the thorn and let it heal than allow it to fester under the skin. If ye understand my meaning.”

Jaime had a point. The longer her mother and father—and Sir Joshua too—worried about her and looked for her, the worse it would get, especially when they found out that she’d been fine and at a house party all this time. “Ye are quite right.”

Jaime sprung to her feet with such ease that it caused Giselle a flicker of jealousy. “I shall see about the arrangements for card tables. After all, I am a duchess, and if I want to play cards this evening, cards it will be.”

Giselle laughed. “The funny thing is, ye’ve no’ a snobbish bone in your body.”

“I know.” Jaime wiggled her brows. “But it is amazing what people will do, knowing my title. Astonishing, really, and quite convenient.”

“Especially for me the last two days.”

Jaime hugged Giselle. “All will be well, my friend. And if it’s no’, we will make it so.”

“I’m so glad we reconnected,” Giselle said, recalling how they’d been good friends before their seasons started. When Jaime’s sister had caused a scandal, Giselle’s mother forbade her from seeing Jaime anymore. The parting had been devastating to them both. Though they snuck in moments alone and tried to exchange letters, most were interceded by Giselle’s mother. It was not until Jaime became a duchess that they’d truly been able to rekindle their friendship in the public eye and without her mother’s scorn. And very irritating how a scandal could be forgotten when someone’s status was elevated within society. Further proof of how artificial all of it was.

“I’m no’ certain what I would have done without ye in my life, Jaime.”

Jaime hugged her again. “’Tis verra much the same for me. I missed ye so much all those years we were apart.”

Until recently, Jaime had been under the impression that it was Giselle who’d been avoiding her. “We’ll no’ let anyone come between our friendship again.”

“Certainly no’.”

Giselle sighed as Jaime left the room, looking forward to an evening with Alec, even if it were only to watch him from across the room. She’d not seen him since the night before, and she tried to ignore that little twinge inside her that bespoke of missing him.

Also, while she wanted the rest of the party to know the decision they’d made—

agreeing to marry one another—she thought it would be best for him to do the announcing, especially because of his mother.

* * *

Alec grimacedwhen he walked into the parlor to find card tables set out for games of vingt-et-un before dinner was served. Throughout the day, he’d tried to avoid Lady Mary. She was becoming a serious pain in the arse. It was clear that she’d made some sort of claim on him to the other women in attendance, as most of them had started to back off—the majority giving her unapproving looks.

Lord, how he wished he could disappear into Giselle’s room. Aye, he wanted to kiss her again, but he wanted to know what she thought of his books. Her maid had given him a quiet “thank ye” from her, but nothing more. And he wanted more. Not more of a thank ye, but to discuss the book with her and see what she thought. To finally have someone he could speak openly about literature with, knowing she too enjoyed the written word.

Guests spilled into the parlor room, with Lady Mary making a beeline for him. Alec started to panic, turning one way and then the other, trying to decipher in a split second how to escape the impending onslaught of her unwanted attention. But there was no time, so instead, he scowled in her direction and hoped she’d get the hint. Lady Mary lost her smile, and he watched as she steeled herself to keep moving forward. Bloody hell, she was persistent.

Jaime rushed toward him then, with Lorne on her heels, intervening before Lady Mary could arrive. Alec breathed a sigh of relief.

“Might we have a word, Lord Errol?” Jaime said, overly loud.

Alec glanced at Lorne and then Mary, who had stopped in her tracks. He nodded emphatically and allowed himself to be pulled out of the drawing room into the grand foyer, where he stopped short.

At the bottom of the stairs was Giselle, smiling with that twinkle of mirth in her eyes. She held a cane but wasn’t leaning against it overly much. He guessed she must be taking weight on her good foot. She was recovering faster than anticipated.

“Lady Giselle.” He bowed low, then took her offered hand and kissed her gloved knuckles, wishing he could peel away the fabric and breathe in the lightly fragrant, floral scent of her.

“Lord Errol.”

He loved the sound of her voice, slightly husky and always with a hint of a tease. “I’m glad to see that ye’re feeling well enough to join us, my lady.”

“Well, that is no’ the reason I’ve remained away. I confess I’ve been immersed in another world. That of Pride and Prejudice. Might ye have heard of it?” She cocked a coy shoulder.

He grinned, a thrill humming through his blood. “And ye found it satisfactory.”

“More than.”

“I’m glad ye enjoyed it, lass,” he said softly.

“Ye’re more romantic than ye wish others to know,” she said quietly, startling him as she looked up at him in a way that made him want to pull her into his arms and kiss her. Alas, they did have a small audience—including his dear mother, who’d just arrived.

“Is that no’ the way of it when two people are to wed?” he asked.

Giselle opened her mouth to answer, but his mother intervened—as usual.

“To wed?” The countess did not hide the shock in her piercing tone nor the stunned expression on her face.

Alec turned slowly toward his mother, trying to calm the irritation he felt at her constant censure. Especially the way she was looking at Lady Giselle now as if she’d brought a plague into the house. “Aye, my lady mother. Lady Giselle and I are to wed.”

The countess’s hand fluttered to her chest, and her mouth popped open and closed as if a fish out of water. For the first time in his life, his mother was speechless. Alec might have found it humorous if he was not offended.

“Congratulations,” Jaime rushed to say, with Lorne pounding him on the back and proclaiming the same.

“Thought the day would never come,” his friend teased.

Jaime embraced Giselle, careful not to knock her off her feet.

“Well,” Alec’s mother said, finally finding her voice and still sputtering more than she should. “I suppose we should make the announcement to the rest of the party before rumors begin swirling. The ladies will be so disappointed.”

Alec highly doubted that. They might be able to enjoy themselves now or use the news as an excuse to leave finally. “Aye. The party may continue as an engagement celebration rather than a wife hunt,” he drawled.

“Aye, that is a good idea.” Though her words sounded positive, how she conveyed them was anything but.

They entered the parlor where the guests had assembled with glasses of punch, waiting for their guest of honor to take their seats for the card game to begin.

Alec’s mother swept past him, clapping her hands, a wide smile on her face that he knew to be false. While she might be pleased that he was marrying, she was not at all happy that Giselle was the woman to which he’d attached himself. He didn’t know if that was because she hadn’t picked out his bride herself or because she was worried about the fact that Giselle had been betrothed to Sir Joshua Keith. He supposed a match between them would have been announced in the papers, which he never read, and his mother was worried about the fallout of the dissolution of such a match.

There would be a scandal, which his mother detested, but up here in the Highlands and away from society, Alec didn’t give a damn about what the gossips said. He also didn’t have to deal with it. There was a little tug in his chest at that, remembering how his mother had accused him of being selfish and leaving all of that to her. Perhaps he should suggest a sojourn for her aboard, so she wouldn’t have to face those in society and could instead enjoy a gondola ride in Venice.

“I have a special announcement to make,” the countess said.

Alec reached for Giselle’s hand, giving her a gentle squeeze.

“My son, Lord Errol, and Lady Giselle are to be married.”

There was a gasp within the room, and he watched most noticeably as Lady Mary’s dark gaze bore into Giselle with a hatred that he found nauseating. There had been no commitment between them, not even a hint of one, which made her animosity unsound.

“We shall celebrate their engagement the rest of the week. Champagne,” his mother directed the footmen.

Congratulations came from the guests, and for the first time, Alec didn’t feel like running away, not with Giselle by his side.

They took their places at the tables for the card games, playing and laughing for several hours before dinner was announced. Despite having said she would not be any good at the game, Giselle won most of the rounds at their table.

Alec had eyes for no one but his betrothed, seated beside him at the table after his mother shifted around the place cards.

Lady Mary was settled across from them, much to his dismay, and did not curb her attitude toward Giselle at all. Alec was ready to have her tossed out, willing to risk the anger from her parents for doing so.

“Lady Giselle,” Lady Mary said crisply. “Do tell what happened with your first betrothed? Sir Joshua Keith, I believe?”

Alec bristled, and Lady Mary’s own mother gasped and hissed a warning to her daughter at her inappropriate question. Finally, they were attempting at least to rein her in.

“Ye’ve been misinformed, Lady Mary,” Giselle said coolly, the smile never leaving her lips. “That was no’ something I ever agreed to.”

God, but he admired how she so calmly delivered the answer as if Lady Mary were asking how Giselle had enjoyed the soup course.

“But it was in the papers,” Lady Mary sputtered, ignoring the “Shhh” from her mother.

“An unfortunate side effect to a preemptive and overeager groom.” Giselle sipped her wine and then turned to her left. “Your Grace, how goes the hunt in Sutherland?”

With the skill he found astonishing, Giselle had shut down Lady Mary’s questions, dismissed her, and changed the subject to something much more mundane, as well as focusing the conversation on Lorne. It made Alec like her all the more. Made him want to sweep her up and carry her from the room where he could tell her how much he liked her.

After dessert had been served, Alec leaned toward Giselle. “I’m certain ye’re no’ up for a walk in the garden, but perhaps a sit?”

Giselle laughed softly, touching her napkin to the corners of her mouth. “I would enjoy nothing more than a sit with ye.” She glanced toward his mother. “But I’m certain Lady Errol would require me to have an escort, seeing as how we’ve no’ yet exchanged vows.”

“I will ask Lorne and Jaime.”

She relaxed visibly, perhaps worrying he might have asked his mother, and tucked her napkin back onto her lap.

But she needn’t have worried as Jaime and Lorne were all too happy to accompany them. All in agreement, they excused themselves from the table, with his mother frowning but telling them to enjoy it all the same. The rest of the men adjourned to the smoking room for cheroots and brandy, and the ladies returned to the parlor for sherry and another round of cards. The butler passed the women plaid shawls that his mother must have had prepared for any ladies wishing for a stroll.

The night was crisp, and as soon as they’d stepped outside the door, Alec breathed a little easier. Jamie and Lorne walked in front of them, disappearing into the gardens, leaving them alone as he’d hoped. A soft breeze blew, and the air had grown a little chilly, though not unbearable.

Alec turned his gaze to Giselle, who’d tugged her plaid shawl closed with one hand, the other hand leaning on her cane. She stared up at the sky, a soft smile on her lips that looked a lot like contentment. Alec smiled, and she caught him doing so when she glanced his way.

“Thank ye for asking me outside,” she said. “The air in there was growing quite stifling.”

“Aye. And I feared at any moment Lady Mary would launch herself across the table to attack ye.” Though he said it in jest, Alec wasn’t certain this was false.

“As did I. In fact, would ye check my back? I think there’s a dagger in it.” Giselle giggled as Alec leaned back and pretended to search her back for the imaginary dagger.

“All clear, my lady,” he chuckled. “She must have missed her mark.”

“Ah, well, she tried. How unfortunate for the poor lass.” Giselle started to amble down the stairs, taking them slowly, and Alec placed her hand against his elbow.

“Allow me to carry ye?”

Giselle laughed. “I can manage with this.” She swung the cane into the air, shaking it wildly. “Unless ye’re worried that I’ll use it as a weapon.”

“Now that ye’ve mentioned it, I wonder if I should?” He leaned back, pretending concern.

“Depends on your behavior.”

“I promise to be on my best.”

She let out a disappointed sigh and leaned close to say, “And here I’d hoped ye would no’ be.”

Alec was surprised by her boldness but charmed by it all the same. He winked at her. “As ye wish.”

They made their way slowly to a bench seated beneath an arbor where the lattice work was wide enough to afford them a view of the stars and moon. Giselle sat down with a sigh, and he had an idea that walking this far had been a bit much for her. He should have insisted on providing her assistance by carrying her.

“Are ye all right?” he asked, taking his seat beside her.

“Aye.” Her voice was soft, relieved even.

The countryside was quiet save for the insects, the lapping of the waves against the cliffs, and the occasional hoot of an owl or hawk. Giselle arranged her skirts around her and set the stick on the ground.

The moonlight filtered through the arbor, creating a checkerboard of light on her face and the plaid shawl. She watched him, her face unreadable, except for the tiny crook in her lip that seemed so often there—as if she laughed at the world.

“I came down tonight with the intent to save ye from the groom hunters,” she said with a little laugh.

“Ye did that.”

“As ye saved me from boredom in my room last night and all day. I can no’ thank ye enough for thinking of me.”

He shrugged, trying to make it seem as though it weren’t a big deal. But from the moment he’d hefted her out of the mud by the cliff, there hadn’t been a moment he’d not been thinking of her. The lass had captivated him. Truly, at that moment, there was nowhere else he’d rather be.

With no one there to stop them, he leaned down and brushed his mouth over hers, savoring the feel of their lips locked. God, but he loved her scent. Sweet, floral, with an air of mischief if mischief had a fragrance.