Page 63 of The Scot is Hers
“I wanted some fresh air.” She tried for nonchalance but wasn’t sure her mother was going to buy it. She’d been back in her chamber for hours now, having fled the shards of glass in the library for fear the guests would come running to find out what they’d broken.
Lady Bothwell straightened, staring Giselle down. “I’ll go with ye.”
Giselle let out a suffering sigh. “Was there something ye needed, Mama?”
“Nay, simply stretching my legs as well.” Giselle could smell a lie from her mother a mile away. She had most definitely been lurking. But why? Perhaps she’d even been standing guard, knowing that Giselle had not come in to rest earlier that afternoon.
“Past my chamber? Seems as though ye were checking up on me.”
“Do ye need checking up on?”
“I do no’.”
Having her mother with her now was putting a damper on her plans, foolish as they might have been. She’d rashly decided to leave Slains for Boddam in an attempt to beg Sir Joshua not to engage in the duel tomorrow morning. Perhaps it was luck or fate that her mother had chosen to skulk outside of her bedroom like a pickpocket.
“Ye were no’ sneaking out to find Lord Errol, were ye?”
Now Giselle was certain that her mother knew about the library or that she suspected. “Nay, Mother.” And that was the truth.
“Hmm.” Lady Bothwell was also easily able to detect lies, but the pinch of her brows showed she’d not detected one now and was confused about it.
Giselle was getting better at hiding her feelings—good.
She couldn’t very well tell her mother that she planned to return to Boddam Castle, though only briefly, to convince Joshua to change his mind. First of all, her mother would never allow it. And the other reasons why were plenty—all of which should make Giselle change her mind about the madcap plan.
But Giselle was frantic with panic. Tomorrow morning was going to change everything. It could mean the end of Alec’s life.
How could she not want to put a stop to that?
Her mother halted her at the top of the stairs. “Are ye certain there is no’ anything ye wish to discuss with me?” She searched Giselle’s face as if a housekeeper searching the maid’s drawers for missing silverware. If it was there, Lady Bothwell was certain to find it.
Giselle pulled out her most winning smile and again told her mother the truth. “Nay. Nothing at all.” Because she had absolutelynothingthat shewishedto discuss with her mother at all.
At the base of the stairs, they ran into Jaime, who eyed them both without expression. Though Jaime had forgiven Giselle for thinking she’d abandoned her, Jaime had yet to forgive Lady Bothwell for intervening and causing their rift. Besides, as her dearest friend in the world, Jaime knew what a strain Lady Bothwell put on Giselle, and they had an unspoken pact that she would intervene whenever she could.
Jaime was, as always, elegant and graceful, so she smiled at both of them.
“Your Grace,” Giselle’s mother said with a curtsy. “We’re headed to the garden for a stroll.”
“How lovely, Lady Bothwell,” Jaime said with an incline of her head. “I was coming to find ye, Lady Giselle. I’d hoped ye might like an evening walk. Just my luck that I can now accompany both of ye.”
A second person who would have stopped her from going to Boddam Castle and an uncertain fate. Giselle should take all of these interruptions as a sign, but she couldn’t help the dread that trickled like ice over her spine.
16
Awhite curling mist crawled along the moors as Alec made his way on horseback to the abbey with Lorne, Euan and Malcolm riding beside him.
Before leaving, he’d checked to see that Giselle was still abed, lest they arrived to discover another garden party delaying the inevitable. She’d been in a sound slumber, her cheeks pink from sleep, and her blonde curls splayed out enticingly on the pillow. It had been the hardest thing he’d ever done not to lean down and kiss her. To rouse her and tell her goodbye. To not crawl into the bed beside her and send a message to Sir Joshua Keith that he’d not be coming.
Alec had laid a single rose upon the nightstand, along with a book from his library for her to read, not that him leaving her a gift would make her any less angry when she finally arose to find he’d left.
The day before, he’d promised he’d wake her. But to bring her along with him would be madness—and she wouldn’t stay behind; he knew that much. Besides, he didn’t want her to see what happened between him and Keith, even if her imagination could give her all the images she needed. He feared the event would be too traumatic, especially if it didn’t go the way he wanted.
They arrived at the abbey at nearly the same time as his lifelong enemy. Keith was glowering in his usual fashion, his clothes rumpled, which was not normal at all. Seemed the idea of coming today had ruffled his feathers, too. Good. Perhaps he’d changed his mind or would be willing to talk about it.
The doctor too had already arrived, looking a wee bit blearier-eyed than Alec appreciated in a man who was supposed to save their lives.
“Keith,” Alec said, not curbing the disgust in his voice.
