The Scot is Hers by Eliza Knight
Epilogue
Six months later
“Are ye certain ye want to do this?” Giselle asked, holding her husband’s hand and gazing up into his green eyes as they stood outside the stable at Slains Castle. The air was crisp, and the sun shone. And for one rare day in early spring, it didn’t feel as though it might snow or rain at any moment.
“Aye. I think ’tis important,” he finally said with a long sigh.
After marrying six months before and spending an extended honeymoon in the Highlands through the winter, they’d finally decided to return to Edinburgh now that it was spring to make their debut as a married couple to Scottish society—a prospect the two of them dreaded.
However, Giselle was excited to see Jaime, who was nearing the end of her pregnancy and expecting the child in a month or so’s time. Giselle had some news of her own to share with her dearest friend.
Alec slipped his hand into the front of her cloak and pressed it to her swollen belly. “We can always go tomorrow.”
Giselle laughed. “I might be busy tomorrow. Or it might decide to hail. Perhaps we should wait until next year?”
It wasn’t that they didn’t want to see their friends, for they dearly did. Their hesitation landed squarely back to where they’d been when they first met in the garden several years prior—the dowager countess and her party planning ways.
When they’d sent word to Alec’s mother that they were planning to visit Edinburgh though they didn’t mention they would be returning to the country for the birth of their child. They wanted the news of their pregnancy to be a surprised. Despite their requests for a quiet visit, his mother had insisted on planning a party to celebrate the two of them. If Alec had denied his mother, she would have done so anyway, so he reluctantly agreed.
Which was why Giselle was not at all surprised that he was worried about it. They’d been so content to live quietly, enjoying each other after the whirlwind madness of the house full of guests during their quick courtship. They’d spent endless days naked in bed, as much as they’d spent them buried in the pages of books and riding on the moors—not during thunderstorms. Being thrust back into society felt as if they’d be walking on a bed of nails together.
“We could wait until the birth of the bairn,” Giselle added with a teasing grin. “But then we might be too tired. And the way we are, I’ll likely be with child quite soon after the first.”
Alec wiggled his brows with a chuckle and leaned down to kiss her. “I do love the idea of remaining in seclusion with ye forever.”
“As do I.” Giselle let out a long sigh. “But knowing both of our mothers, if we do no’ go and show our faces now, in a few weeks’ time, they’ll have moved into Slains, and we’ll never be free of them.”
Alec looked genuinely terrified at that prospect and shook his head vehemently. “We’ll go to Edinburgh.”
By the end of the day, they’d arrived in Aberdeen, where they boarded the ship Jaime had sent for them. The Andrewson Shipping Company that Jaime owned had been thriving. While they were mostly well known for being a cargo carrier, they had recently begun incorporating passenger travel into their business as an additional service.
“Welcome aboard, my lord, my lady,” an enthusiastic young woman with glasses said as she swept into a low bow. Rather than a gown, she wore breeches, a starched shirt and a frockcoat in Sutherland colors. “I’m Emilia, the Duchess of Sutherland’s assistant. She sent me to welcome ye aboard the Duke’s Sails.”
Giselle instantly remembered the amiable, hard worker from years before when she’d first met her. “Lovely to see ye again, Emilia,” Giselle said.
Emilia looked slightly embarrassed. “Ah, begging your pardon, my lady, for no’ recognizing ye right away. A blunder on my part that I do apologize for.”
“Oh, ye need no’ apologize. I’m certain ye must meet many people, and it has been quite some time since I visited Jaime’s ships. No offense taken.”
Emilia grinned. “Thank ye, my lady. Ye’re too kind. If ye would accompany me, I shall take ye to the cabin where ye may enjoy a rest from your long journey. The moon is high and the wind excellent this evening, so we plan to set sail soon and arrive at the Leith docks in the morning.”
Giselle was grateful for that because she was incredibly tired and hoped the boat's rocking would lull her into a deep sleep, so she was fresh when they arrived.
“Would ye prefer two cabins?” Emilia said, her back to them as she led the way.
Giselle bit her lip and glanced up at Alec. Were they supposed to want two cabins? She loved sleeping beside him, curling into his strong embrace and feeling safe and loved. “I think one should suffice.”
Emilia sighed with relief, glancing behind her. “Good, because we only prepared for one, thinking of their Graces. Ye’re in the minority. Alas, I probably should have kept that to myself. Here we are.” She pushed open the door to an opulent cabin with a massive, carved-oak four-poster bed, a matching wardrobe and a round table with two chairs, all of which were secured to the floor.
The room's colors were green and gold with embroidered purple thistles, giving it elegance and a feeling of a united Scotland. Being above the deck, they had a wide window view of the sea, with pillow-covered benches to watch the rolling waves as they traveled. It was too dark now to see out of them, but she thought it would be splendid in the morning. For now, the room was lit by several candelabras that were also secured to the surfaces.
“Your servants will be given their own quarters as well. Shall I instruct your maid and valet to help ye prepare for bed?” Emilia asked, pushing her glasses back up the bridge of her nose.
The last thing Giselle wanted was her maid fussing about when she wanted to flop onto the bed and tug Alec down with her. “I think we can manage. Thank ye, Emilia. Ye’ve been a wonderful host thus far, and we’ll be sure to sing your praises to Her Grace.”
Emilia blushed. “Thank ye so much.” She curtsied before backing from the room, closing the door behind her.
Alone at last, without their overeager servants fussing about and bone-weary from a long day of travel, Giselle and Alec undressed each other and climbed into the large bed, both of them asleep before the ship set sail.
Giselle woke to the most glorious sensation—often how she awoke— of her husband kissing his way across her collarbone to her mouth. She opened her eyes, discovering a smiling Alec staring down at her and the light of the sun filtering through the window.
Alec loved to make love in the morning, and she found that even with child, she was enthusiastic about the act too. As it turned out to her surprise, bedding her husband wasn’t only about creating a child—but a glorious and delicious pleasure.
They made love languidly, with the ship’s slow rocking only adding to the lazy, dreamy indulgence of a morning in bed.
By the time the ship docked, they’d spent several hours in each other’s arms, wolfed down the breakfast Emilia had dropped off and then dressed. Despite a full night’s sleep, Giselle was exhausted again—but in a good way. A smile seemed to be permanently formed on her lips. Being married to Alec had made her the happiest person in the world, she was certain, because he enjoyed and encouraged her to be who she was.
They meandered down the gangway to the docks and to a carriage that awaited them there. They arrived at Errol House a short time later, greeted by the servants who were pleased to see them and to meet their mistress for the first time, and of course by Alec’s mother, who was dressed impeccably at this hour already. She often looked as if she expected the queen to walk through her door at any moment. Given it hadn’t happened yet, Giselle wasn’t holding out hope, even though Lady Errol was.
“Oh, ’tis so good to see both of ye.” Lady Errol raked her gaze over Giselle, settling on the slight swell in her gown, which, being loose, hid most of the roundness of her belly. She flicked her eyes back to Giselle but didn’t say a word. The glitter in her eye and large smile spoke volumes, and Giselle was pleased to see the excitement in her eyes at learning she would soon be a grandmother.
“We are glad to be back in the city,” Giselle said, embracing her mother-in-law.
“And the city welcomes ye with open arms.” Lady Errol held her at arm’s length and stared again at her growing belly. If Giselle wasn’t mistaken, there were tears of joy in the woman’s eyes as she squeezed her hands. She finally let go to pull her son in for an embrace. “Oh, do please refresh yourselves, and then we shall have tea.”
Their idea of refreshment was slightly different than Lady Errol might have expected. Rather than retire to their bedroom—they headed to the library, which Alec had been telling her about. It was not as grand as the one at Slains Castle but rivaled all of the libraries in Edinburgh, Giselle was fairly certain.
The curtains had been opened to allow in light, and rows upon rows of floor-to-ceiling shelves of books filled the space with not a speck of dust in sight. There was a large marble hearth, topped with a massive gilded-looking glass. Wherever there was wall space not taken up by books, there were paintings of people writing books, lounging with books, and a particular favorite of Giselle’s where a woman had fallen asleep on a chaise with a book, and her hound had a bit of the corner as if he’d drag it away like a prize.
“This is so incredible,” she said, whirling in a circle, taking it all in. “Who would have known that the Beast of Errol had no’ one but two of the most amazing libraries in Scotland?”
Alec wrapped his arms around her, swirling her into a dance. “Ye are incredible.”
Surprisingly, they spent the afternoon undisturbed in the library, managing to make love twice with no one the wiser. By the time evening rolled about, both of them had realized they’d missed tea and felt a little guilty about it. But alas, they were about to endure the ultimate torment, which was a grand ball in their honor. And they reasoned if Lady Errol had wanted them at tea, she would have come banging down the door herself, which she’d never been too shy to do before.
At the top of the stairs, both of them were dressed in their best—she in a rose-colored gown with all the frills of a countess, her hair done as simply as she pleased with a diamond-and-gold comb. Alec was garbed in his starched white shirt, kilt and frockcoat; his boots shone in the light of the candelabra in the grand foyer. They each drew in long, steadying breaths.
“The quicker we enter the ballroom, the quicker we can escape. And we are quite good at that,” Alec said with a mischievous wink that had Giselle’s limbs humming with anticipation of the moment they would elude their unwanted guests.
“Aye. Do we need a codeword?” She gazed up at him, a wide grin on her face.
“Hmm. That would be a good idea, and I suppose ‘help’ would be a bad choice.”
Giselle laughed and smoothed her hands over the lapels of his frockcoat, her fingers tapping over the Errol pin there. “Aye. Perhaps, ‘I think I left a candle burning in the library?’”
Alec nodded slowly, a smirk on his lips. “That could work, although a servant could be used to extinguish it, so we may be foiled in our escape.”
“Ah, a good old plot then—my ankle.” She pretended to go limp on one side, faking an injury. “As we did during croquet.”
Alec slid his hands around her waist to her back and lowered his lips to hers for a soft kiss. “Perfection.” He held out his arm to her, and she took it, continuing to revel at the feel of his muscles beneath her fingertips.
Her heart did a little flip as they descended. She still couldn’t believe her luck in Alec finding her on the moors. The fact that she was married to him, sharing this wonderful life. The circumstances of how their love evolved were bittersweet considering how it ended for Sir Joshua, but at least they could go to bed each night knowing that his death was not at Alec’s hands.
The desire and love she had for her husband seemed to grow with each new day. And soon, they would be three. The idea of being a family was a little scary at the same time that it was exhilarating. She imagined them playing seek and find, and they would teach their bairn to be the best of the best.
“I love ye, beastie,” she said as she reached the last step.
“I love ye, too, my wee runaway.”
Giselle laughed as the doors were opened and they were announced.
“The Earl and Countess of Errol.”
She bit her lip to silence herself, but the smile was hard to replace with the stoic expression a countess should wear. Alas, she’d come to terms with the fact that she would never be that kind of countess. She was quite happy being herself.
Giselle’s smile only grew when she saw who greeted them in the grand ballroom.
Why, this was not a grand ball at all, but an intimate gathering of their friends. Standing beneath the glittering crystal chandelier in their finery were Jaime and Lorne. Malcolm and Euan stood among Euan’s six beautiful sisters, and a lovely looking lass with hair the color of midnight. Also in attendance were Giselle’s parents, whom she’d not seen since her wedding.
“Oh, my,” Giselle whispered, a jitter of nerves making it hard to walk forward.
Her apprehension for what they would say by way of greeting, and her excitement at seeing her friends, warred within her, making her slightly dizzy. But she needn’t have fretted—her mother teared up and rushed forward to pull her in for a hug, and surprisingly, her father did the same. She’d been worried they wouldn’t accept her marriage to Alec, but they seemed quite happy with the match, or at least happy to see her.
“Ye look beautiful, my dear,” her father said. His hands clasped her face, and he pressed a kiss to her forehead, something he’d not done since she was a wee lass, and Giselle nearly melted into a puddle of tears at the loving gesture.
Then he was turning, gripping Alec in the greeting equivalent of a bear hug. She was quite stunned at the show of affection, never having seen her father do such before.
Lady Bothwell embraced her heartily, then pulled back to stare down at her daughter’s swollen belly. But just as Alec’s mother had not said a word, neither did hers.
“Aye, Mama, I am with child,” Giselle finally said, unable to hide the burst of joy that filled her.
Lady Bothwell’s hand came to her mouth as she tried to conceal her shock, but the tears flowed anyway. This reunion seemed as if it were taking its emotional toll on everyone because Giselle felt herself tearing up too.
Then Jaime squealed in delight and hugged Giselle, pressing her own large abdomen to Giselle’s, bringing out laughter with the tears of joy.
“Our bairns will be the best of friends, like us,” Jaime said.
“Oh, I dearly hope so!” Giselle was certain to have a sore face the following day from all the smiling she was doing.
The Dowager Countess of Errol whirled her hand in the air, the small quartet began to play, and Alec whirled her out into the center of the dance floor. They gazed into each other’s eyes, joy emanating from every feature.
Who would have ever guessed that a beastly earl and a runaway lass would ever end up dancing to the beat of their hearts?
A few weeks later, Jaime and Lorne were delivered of a strapping lad with gray eyes like his father. And a few months following that joyous occasion, Giselle and Alec welcomed their beautiful, fiery-haired lass. Perhaps their children being friends would be the least of their concerns…
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If you enjoyed THE SCOT IS HERS, please spread the word by leaving a review on the site where you purchased your copy, or a reader site such as Goodreads! I love to hear from readers! Visit me on Facebook: https://
Stay tuned for more of Eliza’s brand new Scottish Regency series — SCOTS OF HONOR!
Highland war heroesrebuilding their lives grapple with ladies forging their own paths—who will win?
Regency Scotland comes alive in the vibrant and sexy new SCOTS OF HONOR series by USA Today bestselling author Eliza Knight. Scottish military heroes, who want nothing more than to lay low after the ravages of war in 19th century France, find their Highland homecomings vastly contradict their simple desires. Especially when they meet the feisty lasses who are tenacious enough to take them on, and show them just what they’ve been missing out of life. In battle they can’t be beaten, but in love, they all find the ultimate surrender.
Return of the Scot
The Scot is Hers
Taming the Scot
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Wantto read more Scottish romance novels by Eliza?
Check out her Stolen Bride Series!
The Highlander’s Temptation
The Highlander’s Reward
The Highlander’s Conquest
The Highlander’s Lady
The Highlander’s Warrior Bride
The Highlander’s Triumph
The Highlander’s Sin
Wild Highland Mistletoe (a Stolen Bride winter novella)
The Highlander’s Charm (a Stolen Bride novella)
A Kilted Christmas Wish – a contemporary Holiday spin-off
How about somefierce Highland rebels? Check out Eliza’s Prince Charlie’s Angels series!
The Rebel Wears Plaid
Truly Madly Plaid
You’ve Got Plaid
