Page 28 of The Scot is Hers
“Och, she has nothing,” Lady Mary said, interrupting Giselle’s more amorous thoughts. “I’ll go.”
“Nay, I’ve got it,” Giselle replied. “I’ve been cooped up in a storm, having a fit of the bores. What heaven it is to escape to a merry party. A ride in the carriage, passing soggy flowers on the moors, arriving with mud, causing all the guests to laugh hearty. A game, some champagne, my new friends are the cures.”
Jaime clapped. “I do love playing Bouts-Rimes with ye.”
Giselle grinned, her confidence growing. “What about ye, Lady Mary? Have ye a rhyme?”
“Aye.” She locked eyes on Giselle as she spoke, a little sneer on her mouth. “Wallflowers and snooty gentleman—bores, we need something livelier to make this a party. I’d rather be in the city than cooped up on the moors, trying to find a husband who is hale and hearty. A hefty dowry and polite society are the cures.”
The other ladies clapped, and Giselle did too, trying to pretend she hadn’t noticed that the rhyme was meant to insult not only her, but everyone in the house. Goodness, but this was one of the women Alec’s mother had chosen as a potential bride? No wonder he’d ridden out to the abbey. The other ladies took their turns with the rhyming, but Giselle didn’t pay attention. She laughed and smiled when required, but truly she wished for a dram of whisky to take the edge off her throbbing ankle and a warm bed to forget about the day’s torturous events.
A footman came by then to save her from having to give another round of rhymes that Lady Mary would counter with an insult, as he offered them refreshment.
Was it truly possible that Lady Mary wanted Alec for herself? If that were the case, why wasn’t Lady Mary trying to talk to him? If Giselle could walk, she’d saunter up to him right now, if only to escape their presence. The truth was, not one of the eligible women present seemed the least bit interested in their host—the reason they’d been invited.
How awful it must be for Alec to have to endure their company, knowing they didn’t want to be in it.
* * *
Alec had yetto take his eyes off Giselle. He caught her looking at him too. Most of the time, he saw that swivel of her head or that peek through her lashes, and he pretended to be otherwise occupied. But then he’d look back, wishing her could scoop her up and leave this room. She was achingly beautiful, but beneath the pleasant surface lurked an acerbic bookworm he wanted to get to know.
His cravat felt too tight. The only reason he’d not run screaming from the parlor yet was that he liked his friends, and they were keeping him grounded. Well, and besides the fact that he wouldn’t be able to see Giselle if he left the room. Otherwise, he’d have dragged his friends back to his gymnasium for some real, rousing fun.
Alec heard the rhyming game from across the room. appreciating Giselle’s wit and wanting to send the chit who insulted her packing. Alas, that chit’s mother was present, and unfortunately, he didn’t want to deal with the fallout with his own mother. Besides, Giselle was handling her own fine, which made him respect her all the more.
Speaking of mothers, he’d yet to see his. And she’d yet to make a proper introduction to his new...friend. Was Giselle his friend? Why did the idea of being friends make his gut sour?
“What’s got into ye?” Euan asked, nudging him with his shoulder.
“Is that your sister?” Alec nodded toward one of the prettier lasses surrounding Jaime and Giselle. He hoped the change of topic would avert the attention away from himself.
“Aye. Maggie. She’s the only one who could come, a requirement when your mother sent her invitation.”
Alec frowned. “She required Maggie?” What kind of a requirement was that?
Euan shook his head. “Nay, she required any of my sisters, to be frank. I think she needed eligible females.”
“She required me to bring my duchess,” Lorne said. “And I assure ye, she’s no’ eligible.”
The men laughed while Alec still tried to piece together the puzzle his mother had laid out.
“And ye, Malcolm, what did she require of ye?”
Malcolm grinned arrogantly. “Only my presence.”
“I hope ye are no’ implying what I think ye intended to imply with that smirk,” Alec warned. The very idea of his mother in bed with his friend made him want to wretch.
Malcolm shrugged.
“Ye’re an animal,” Alec said. “And no’ a good one.”
His friends laughed, jostling each other, and Alec elbowed them each in the ribs. “I’ve got a mind to take ye outside and challenge ye.”
“Save your strength,” Malcolm said. “From what I understand, ye’ll have a fight soon enough.”
“What does that mean?” Alec examined the room, expecting to see Keith lurking in a corner.
Malcolm nodded toward the women and the way Giselle looked ready to eat one of them alive. She was clearly struggling with her temper. Much had changed in the few moments of ribbing among his comrades.
