Page 73 of The Scot is Hers
“The quicker we enter the ballroom, the quicker we can escape. And we are quite good at that,” Alec said with a mischievous wink that had Giselle’s limbs humming with anticipation of the moment they would elude their unwanted guests.
“Aye. Do we need a codeword?” She gazed up at him, a wide grin on her face.
“Hmm. That would be a good idea, and I suppose ‘help’ would be a bad choice.”
Giselle laughed and smoothed her hands over the lapels of his frockcoat, her fingers tapping over the Errol pin there. “Aye. Perhaps, ‘I think I left a candle burning in the library?’”
Alec nodded slowly, a smirk on his lips. “That could work, although a servant could be used to extinguish it, so we may be foiled in our escape.”
“Ah, a good old plot then—my ankle.” She pretended to go limp on one side, faking an injury. “As we did during croquet.”
Alec slid his hands around her waist to her back and lowered his lips to hers for a soft kiss. “Perfection.” He held out his arm to her, and she took it, continuing to revel at the feel of his muscles beneath her fingertips.
Her heart did a little flip as they descended. She still couldn’t believe her luck in Alec finding her on the moors. The fact that she was married to him, sharing this wonderful life. The circumstances of how their love evolved were bittersweet considering how it ended for Sir Joshua, but at least they could go to bed each night knowing that his death was not at Alec’s hands.
The desire and love she had for her husband seemed to grow with each new day. And soon, they would be three. The idea of being a family was a little scary at the same time that it was exhilarating. She imagined them playing seek and find, and they would teach their bairn to be the best of the best.
“I love ye, beastie,” she said as she reached the last step.
“I love ye, too, my wee runaway.”
Giselle laughed as the doors were opened and they were announced.
“The Earl and Countess of Errol.”
She bit her lip to silence herself, but the smile was hard to replace with the stoic expression a countessshouldwear. Alas, she’d come to terms with the fact that she would never bethatkind of countess. She was quite happy being herself.
Giselle’s smile only grew when she saw who greeted them in the grand ballroom.
Why, this was not a grand ball at all, but an intimate gathering of their friends. Standing beneath the glittering crystal chandelier in their finery were Jaime and Lorne. Malcolm and Euan stood among Euan’s six beautiful sisters, and a lovely looking lass with hair the color of midnight. Also in attendance were Giselle’s parents, whom she’d not seen since her wedding.
“Oh, my,” Giselle whispered, a jitter of nerves making it hard to walk forward.
Her apprehension for what they would say by way of greeting, and her excitement at seeing her friends, warred within her, making her slightly dizzy. But she needn’t have fretted—her mother teared up and rushed forward to pull her in for a hug, and surprisingly, her father did the same. She’d been worried they wouldn’t accept her marriage to Alec, but they seemed quite happy with the match, or at least happy to see her.
“Ye look beautiful, my dear,” her father said. His hands clasped her face, and he pressed a kiss to her forehead, something he’d not done since she was a wee lass, and Giselle nearly melted into a puddle of tears at the loving gesture.
Then he was turning, gripping Alec in the greeting equivalent of a bear hug. She was quite stunned at the show of affection, never having seen her father do such before.
Lady Bothwell embraced her heartily, then pulled back to stare down at her daughter’s swollen belly. But just as Alec’s mother had not said a word, neither did hers.
“Aye, Mama, I am with child,” Giselle finally said, unable to hide the burst of joy that filled her.
Lady Bothwell’s hand came to her mouth as she tried to conceal her shock, but the tears flowed anyway. This reunion seemed as if it were taking its emotional toll on everyone because Giselle felt herself tearing up too.
Then Jaime squealed in delight and hugged Giselle, pressing her own large abdomen to Giselle’s, bringing out laughter with the tears of joy.
“Our bairns will be the best of friends, like us,” Jaime said.
“Oh, I dearly hope so!” Giselle was certain to have a sore face the following day from all the smiling she was doing.
The Dowager Countess of Errol whirled her hand in the air, the small quartet began to play, and Alec whirled her out into the center of the dance floor. They gazed into each other’s eyes, joy emanating from every feature.
Who would have ever guessed that a beastly earl and a runaway lass would ever end up dancing to the beat of their hearts?
A few weeks later, Jaime and Lorne were delivered of a strapping lad with gray eyes like his father. And a few months following that joyous occasion, Giselle and Alec welcomed their beautiful, fiery-haired lass. Perhaps their children being friends would be the least of their concerns…
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