Page 57 of The Scot is Hers
They all shared a chuckle for a moment before Lorne reined them back to the present. “Are ye still going to go through with the fight with Keith?”
“Aye. Pistols at dawn, the day after tomorrow.”
“At least that gives us some time to change your mind.” Lorne stared at him without flinching.
Alec returned his regard. “I will no’ be changing my mind.”
“I pray that’s no’ the case.” Lorne let out a long, exaggerated sigh. “Let me ask ye a question.”
“I can no’ stop ye.”
“Do ye love her?”
Alec stepped back from the question as if the heavy words had physically pushed him. His foot caught on a stone, and he wobbled briefly before righting himself. He was stable on his feet, but that word...it made him unbalanced.
Love was not something he’d considered until his friend uttered the sentiment. Aye, before the war, he’d thought he’d wed, have a few heirs and spares and that he would like an agreeable wife. But after the war, when he’d returned with his face looking as though it had been seared off by the devil himself, he’d never considered that his wife would like him, let alone love him, and he certainly didn’t expect to have those feelings in his own heart.
Love was so...strong. So unattainable. And yet, repeating the simple word over and over in his head had his heart pounding, his chest swelling.Was this love? This dizzy sensation that made him want to run and sit down all at once? The inability to stand straight or keep his balance…
“I do no’ know,” he finally said in a tone that he didn’t recognize.
“Well, I suggest ye figure it out before ye throw your life away,” Lorne said.
“Why does everyone assume that Keith is going to get the better of me? None of ye seem to have any confidence in my ability to aim and shoot.”
“’Tis no’ that. We fully expect ye to land the mark,” Euan said. “But Keith is also a good shot, friend, and so he’s liable to hit ye with a bullet, too. And if the news ever made it to the right ears, ye could be arrested. Charged with murder.”
“We simply do no’ want to lose ye again to that bastard,” Malcolm said.
“Lose me again? I’m standing right bloody here.” Alec spread his arms wide.
Lorne pursed his lips. “Aye, but ye’re no’ the same man who left for the Peninsular War.”
“War changes people,” Alec argued.
“True. But so does betrayal.” Lorne nodded toward the open wall of the abbey, where the voices of the party guests filtered in.
Alec picked apart the sounds, trying to hear Giselle.
“So does love,” Lorne continued. “I’ve no’ seen ye as animated, as happy quite frankly, in years. And I think it is due to that lass who was waiting for ye with the ridiculous ruse of a garden party to save your arse.” Lorne chuckled, and they all joined in.
“It is ridiculous, is it no’?” Alec laughed and shook his head, the vision of the white tables covered in flowers and all the accoutrements for tea. “She certainly did try and succeed in her mission. There was no duel today. But there will be a duel. No matter the consequences.”
“Alas, it has only delayed what ye say is inevitable.”
Alec nodded. Despite his feelings for Giselle, if he didn’t settle the score—for she was right, that was exactly what this was—with the bastard, then he was never going to be able to heal. Keith deserved to feel the pain he’d inflicted on Alec. To feel the sting of betrayal, or at the very least, the sting from Alec’s bullet cutting through his skin.
He looked to his friends. “Can I still count on all of ye the day after tomorrow?”
“Ye can count on us every day. We’re no’ going anywhere.”
15
Giselle stared at her mother over the breakfast room table, considering how much her patience had thinned, and how the peace she’d found within the walls of Slains had all but disappeared.
Once more, her hair was done up with a thousand pins, the natural curls ironed out and then put back in with a hot iron the way her mother liked it. Hours had passed while the maid tugged and prodded. The only good thing about her parents’ arrival was that she was once more outfitted in her own clothes. Today’s day gown was a soft taupe with little embroidered flowers in the same shade.
After the garden party the day before, Alec had not returned. Off he’d gone with his friends—Jaime said something about a hunt—but Giselle was pretty certain they’d gone to practice target shooting. Which meant he was planning to still go through with the duel.
