Page 39 of The Scot is Hers
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 ofvingt-et-unbefore 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 hewantedmore. 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 ofPride 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.”
