Page 51 of The Scot is Hers
“A dowry is no’ necessary,” Alec interrupted. “I wish to marry your daughter and do no’ need your money to do it.”
Sir Joshua bristled. “I will file in the court for breach of contract.”
“There can be no contract if Lady Giselle did no’ agree,” Lady Errol said, entering the parlor and drawing the attention of everyone there. “I see we have new guests.” Her voice took on a cheerful note. “Do forgive me for no’ greeting ye when ye arrived—I only just found out ye were here.” A subtle dig at their unannounced and unwelcome onslaught.
“My lady,” they murmured, with Sir Joshua bending his knee.
Giselle’s mother had the good sense to look embarrassed. Even though Alec had invited them, their coming and Sir Joshua Keith was not a joyful pretense.
“It seems I have come upon ye during a disagreement,” Lady Errol continued. “I had so wished to greet ye in more pleasant circumstances, seeing as how we’re to be a family.” She turned her gaze on Giselle’s father. “I do wish my late husband could have been here. He was honored to support your bill in parliament regarding the land tax distribution.”
Giselle watched as her father’s animosity started to melt, not entirely but a little, at the dowager’s reminder that her husband, his peer, had supported him. Asking without the use of specific words for Lord Bothwell to support her now.
“He was a verra good man,” her father said.
Lady Errol smiled graciously. “Indeed he was.”
“None of that changes the fact that there has been a breach of contract,” Sir Joshua said in a high-pitched tone, exasperation making spittle fly from his lips. “I demand satisfaction.”
These words were said directly to Alec, who stiffened at Giselle’s side.
“Sir,” her father said sternly to Keith. “I’m certain we can discuss this elsewhere.”
“Nay, we can no’.” Sir Joshua Keith doubled down, fists at his side. “We will settle this the way men do. A duel. Pistols. Tomorrow after dawn.”
Alec stepped forward, and Giselle wanted to grab him back, to leap between them, but then he said, “I accept. But I canna do it until luncheon.”
Sir Joshua sputtered, “Ye do no’ get to negotiate the time.”
Alec shrugged. “Then ye’ll find yourself quite alone, and I’ve witnesses enough here to say I offered another time. I am unavailable at dawn.”
Sir Joshua bared his teeth. “Ye would sully your reputation.”
Alec laughed bitterly and crossed his arms over his chest. “Ironic, coming from ye.”
Sir Joshua bristled, the tension in the lines of his body. Giselle worried their planned duel would come to blows right here and now. Lady Errol had paled but said nothing, understanding that this was one aspect of her son’s life she couldn’t intervene on. And Giselle understood now why she’d been asked to leave the castle—to get away from Alec because Lady Errol had worried he’d lose his life.
“Fine. Noon,” Sir Joshua finally relented.
“Noon at the abbey,” Alec clarified.
Her heart thundered in her chest. They would shoot at each other in the place where their rivalry had begun? This was a nightmare, a bloody nightmare.
“No’ a minute later,” Sir Joshua spat. “Ye’ll wish ye’d agreed to give her up.”
“I doubt it.” Alec sounded so confident, almost on the verge of mockery.
Joshua shouldered his way out of the parlor, the castle's front door slamming shut behind him.
This was a disaster. As if Joshua had not already done enough to attempt to destroy Alec’s life—now he would end it too. She knew how well he could handle a pistol, and from the story Alec had told her, how ruthless he could be with any weapon.
“Do ye see what ye’ve done?” Giselle said accusingly at her father. “Rather than negotiate the termination details of the betrothal contract that ye created without my permission, ye’ve sent two men to shoot at each other.”
“How dare ye speak to me that way,” her father said, his face growing red with anger.
“I say it’s high time I did. Ye’ve never listened to me. They could kill each other.”
“I’m no’ going to die,” Alec said.
