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.
11
Giselle had wished for a moment like this.
A chance to be alone with Alec in a fairy tale setting, living out her fantasy. And here she was, melting under his kiss beneath the light of the moon. She curled her fingers around the lapels of his jacket. Just as he hadn’t touched her the first time they kissed, Alec kept his hands hidden.
But Giselle wanted to touch him, wanted him to touch her. She’d been thrilled when he’d given her hand a gentle squeeze in the parlor as their engagement was announced. She knew that he hesitated because of what she’d told him about Joshua Keith taking liberties without asking.
Alec would wait for her permission—and she was going to give it to him by showing him. Giselle slid her hands down his arm, threading her fingers with his. She moved his hands to the small of her back, firmly planting them there. The pressure of his touch sent frissons of heat through her. Alec abruptly ended their kiss, staring into her eyes with a question.
“Are ye certain ye’re all right with me touching ye?” he asked.
Giselle smiled up at him. “Aye. I want ye to.”
He grinned, stroking gently up her spine as he watched her reaction. “Still certain?”
Giselle let out a throaty laugh that she barely recognized. “Aye.” Then she placed her hands on his shoulders and tugged him in for another kiss.
The feel of his hands on her back—caressing softly up and down, tugging her a little closer with each ensuing swipe—combined with the heady kiss and her own exploration of his strong shoulders had Giselle’s heart pounding. It was as she’d imagined the most perfect kiss between a man and a woman should be. She could barely catch her breath. Was this how it would always be?
She prayed it was, even if a little part of her tapped negatively against the fantasy, trying to burst her bubble of passion and bliss. They had agreed to marry for convenience, after all. But the logical part of her said that perhaps convenience could also be pleasurable.
At least that was what it seemed like right here and now. Pure enjoyment and happiness.
But all that would come to a close soon when the truth came out to her parents. When the guests here realized she’d lied about Sir Joshua to save face at the dining table. Of course, it hadn’t been a complete lie. She hadn’t truly agreed to marry Joshua Keith. Only under duress and at the insistence of her parents had she minorly acquiesced, and that didn’t count, did it? That wasn’t a true agreement; at least, she tended to think not.
The last thing she wanted to be thinking about right now was her former betrothed. She wanted to think only of Alec and the way he was nibbling at her lips. The way her nipples tingled at the feel of him touching her back, stroking her tongue with his own.
Voices carried across the lawn from the house, growing closer, louder, until it finally got through their heads that the rest of the crowd was headed their way.
They broke their kiss, both of them startled as Alec leapt off the bench and several feet away, giving the impression of propriety when a moment ago they had been anything but.
Giselle’s lips still burned, her blood still humming with the pleasure of his kiss as the party from inside turned a corner in the garden and came into view. Though it was dusk, their shapes glowed in the moonlight, along with the torches several footmen carried to light the path.
Och! But Jaime and Lorne!
However, she needn’t have worried, as Jaime appeared miraculously at her side and said, “It looks like we have company,” sliding onto the bench beside her.
Lorne and Alec looked deep in conversation, though no words left their mouths, and they turned in unison to greet the countess, who appeared irritated to be outside. Lady Mary, however, looked quite smug, as if she’d either caught them doing something they shouldn’t or was proud that she’d interrupted what was meant to be a private moment without a crowd.
Giselle would have bet a month’s pin money that it was Lady Mary’s idea to come out into the garden. She wasn’t an idiot even if she acted like one, and no doubt she suspected they’d come to the garden for a moment of privacy, to share a kiss. But alas, because of the loudness of the guests’ approach, what she’d stumbled upon was simply four people in conversation. All fit to be proper and looking startled at the approach of the others who’d not been invited to join them.
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How fortuitous for Giselle. She whispered through her smile to Jaime, “Thank ye.”
“Of course. We did no’ want to ruin the rest of the week by getting ye stuck with his mother as a chaperone,” Jaime replied conspiratorially with a tinkling laugh and a wink.
Giselle giggled and turned to face the crowd, her eyes settling on Lady Mary. “’Tis a beautiful night. I’m so glad ye all joined us.” She offered a winning smile that had the men nodding, and the mothers too, despite their disappointment that their daughters would no longer be able to gain a proposal from Alec. Unless they hoped to intervene somehow as she suspected Lady Mary might.
That lass was up to something. She glowered in their direction as though she’d eaten an entire lemon. All pinched and puckered. It was exceedingly unattractive. But rather than worry over it, Giselle decided the best thing to do would be to ignore it. If she were to pay attention to such childish and behavior, she’d only be letting the lass win.
“How was the game of cards?” Alec asked. “Any winners?”
“We were only halfway through when Lady Mary felt ill,” Malcolm said with a raised brow, pointedly saying without the direct words that their being here was Mary’s idea entirely.
Ah, so it had been her idea. How obvious she was. Only one lass was missing, Miss Maggie, Euan’s sister. Giselle had the impression that she was quite a lot nicer than the rest of the lasses here. She also had not come to gain a husband.
“I do hope ye’re feeling better now that ye’ve had some air,” Giselle said.
“Much,” Lady Mary said, her tone clipped. “Though I would dearly like to sit if Your Grace does no’ mind?” Her gaze was pointed at Jaime.
Jaime stood immediately, gracious as always. “Of course no’, please do sit.”
The Scot is Hers: The Scots of Honor Series Page 13