Page 12 of The Scot is Hers
Alec laughed aloud at his pathetic thoughts. There was no such woman. He doubted she existed, and he was certainly not lucky enough to ever meet her. Besides, he was so resolute on never marrying that even if she did fall into his lap, he still had qualms about his ability to commit.
Aye, marriage was the greatif.So great it was as mythical as the kelpies he’d imagined rising from the sea.
His poor mother. Alec hated to disappoint her, but there was no other way to go about it. His happiness—and misery—had to count for something, didn’t it?
And right now, he was perfectly fine wallowing in his misery.
Alec leaned against the stone abbey, staring up at the part of the roof that had not yet collapsed. Perhaps it would be fate for the abbey to be struck by lightning right there, and the wooden tresses and thatch would fall on his head, burying him in a place that held so much memory, so much fantasy, for him.
A sudden thrill rushed through his veins, and he had a hankering for being back in the boxing ring—though he’d only ever done it recreationally in his friend Lorne’s house in Edinburgh, and most recently in his castle here. Lorne was a damned good boxer, and the ring was a place Alec had been able to work out his demons enough times. With the lads having descended upon Slains, perhaps he could entice them into his new gymnasium for a match.
It was then Alec realized that the sense of adventure he’d been longing for had been so repressed of late. Alone in Slains Castle, not much happened. The only exploits he’d had were between the pages of a book unless one counted the rounding up of the escaped cattle who’d ransacked the local village. That had been interesting. He chuckled.
Dear God, he was becoming quite a sad specimen. Perhaps he should go back to the castle and attempt to enjoy himself. At the very least, he could play a round of cards with his friends and challenge to loser to a boxing match.
* * *
Bastard!
As soon as the door closed, Giselle covered her face with her hands, then bit her fist to keep from screaming. Why washethe man her parents had decided she must marry?
Giselle could still feel his dry, hard lips on hers. Still see the wolfish glint in his eyes, the way he’d prowled toward her. The walls of the beautifully appointed room felt as though they were caving in on her. And there was nowhere to run. Nowhere to hide. No way to escape.
She’d have taken a man decades her senior on the cusp of death with a festering leg wound as Henry VIII had over Sir Joshua Keith.
There was something about him that made her skin crawl. On the outside, Sir Joshua was handsome, tall and strong, wealthy. All the marks of what a high society lass would want in a husband. But on the inside, he was rotten, devious. There lurked something that she couldn’t quite put a name to, only that she innately knew if she were forced to marry him, her life would be over.
A rush of panic swept her then, making her chest feel tight as her heart thudded against her ribs. Even her breathing became labored. This was not how she’d imagined her life going when she was a lass daydreaming of her future.
Giselle dashed to the window, staring out at the gloom below. She rattled the locks and shoved the glass open. Cool, wet air whipped her in the face as she took a great gulping breath.
The long gravel drive below beckoned her, teasing her with the way it pointed toward freedom. The drop wasn’t too bad, only two stories. But she’d still probably break something, at the very least twisting an ankle. Either way, she’d be immobilized and then truly stuck, which would only make things worse.
Or maybe not. If her parents thought that she’d simply leapt out the window, maybe they’d take pity on her. But somehow, she doubted it.
Her gaze was drawn toward the direction in which they’d come. Her mind stretched over the hundreds of miles between here and Edinburgh. She’d never make it on foot. In a carriage, it had taken them days. Walking would be weeks, and she had no provisions to sustain herself nor any way to protect herself from brigands and outlaws.
But what was worse? Being accosted on the road or have her spirit crushed daily for the rest of her life?
An image of the massive castle, perched on the cliffs that they’d passed on the road, came to mind.
The Beast of Errol…
How far was Alec Hay’s castle from here? She thought it was several miles—it had been at least an hour in the carriage. That would be nearly half a day on foot or more. Unless she could somehow steal a horse…
But how would she even get out of this place?
And, if she did attempt to run away, there was every possibility her parents would disown her. She didn’t hate them so much as never to see them again. She merely wanted to take charge of her future and safety, for she did not feel safe within these walls at all. But the thought of never seeing her parents again made her pause. Could she go through with that?
Giselle shut the window, tears coming to her eyes, not for the first time since she’d learned she would be forced to wed Sir Joshua Keith.
As much as she despised the way her parents treated her, they were all she had. If she deserted them, she would be abandoning any semblance of safety and all sense of home.
And yet, she couldn’t consign herself to a lifetime with a man that was so...cruel. So forceful. He did not stir any feelings of passion within her—quite the opposite. He repulsed her.
Again, Giselle looked longingly out the window. She did have a few friends who might be willing to take her in if her parents did disown her. Though the number of people she could count on her friend list had sadly dwindled over the years. Her parents had seen to that. Her secret friendship with Jaime Andrewson, now the Duchess of Sutherland, was one they’d tried to forbid. Her mother had gone so far as even to steal the letters Giselle and Jaime attempted to exchange. Perhaps Jaime would be able to help her, at least get her on her feet.
Another knock at the door had Giselle freezing in place, and she watched as the door crept open, fearing it was Joshua back for another dispassionate embrace. But it seemed for the moment that luck was on her side, as it was her mother who entered the chamber.
