Page 17 of The Scot is Hers
The man snorted. “Yet ye were headed to my castle.”
And therein lay the crutch. Giselle shook her head, mostly to herself, and mumbled, “Why I thought to escape to your castle is beyond me.”
“What do ye mean, escape?” He started to laugh. “Ye’re no’ doing a good job of it.”
Giselle narrowed her eyes. The broody Beast of Errol was becoming quite tiresome. “On the contrary, I have eluded those I wished to avoid.”
He stretched out his arms as if to present himself. “But I’m standing right here.”
Giselle let out a guffaw. “Lord, but ye’re arrogant. I never said it wasyeI was trying to avoid.”
He grunted. “Then who?”
Giselle wiggled her brows and said in a nearly singsong tone, “If I tell, promise to keep it a secret?” After all, why shouldn’t she have a little bit of fun while being so miserable?
“Nay.” He crossed his arms over his chest.
Well, that wasn’t what she expected. “Fine.” She crossed her arms over her chest too, as standoffish as he was.
“Are ye going to tell me anyway?” he asked.
The nerve. “I suppose it is no’ going to hurt me anymore than I already have been to enlighten ye. I am escaping Sir Joshua Keith, your neighbor to the north.”
There was a moment of silence that seemed to stretch on for an eternity. Perhaps the Beast of Errol didn’t know who Keith was. That was possible, she supposed, though unlikely given their proximity to each other and the fact that he’d said he knew all of his surrounding neighbors. So why was the earl so quiet? The silence was thick and charged. Made her a little bit nervous.
“Och, that bastard,” Alec growled at last, as the true Beast of Errol she knew him to be.
“Ah, so I take it the two of ye are acquainted.” She shifted slightly, her arse becoming numb from sitting on the stone floor, and then winced at the pain in her ankle the movement caused.
“Indeed.” Alec’s hands fell to his side, fisted. She could practically feel him seething; as if his breathing controlled the pulsing air. How intriguing. There appeared to be a history between the two men. “I loathe Sir Joshua Keith. What’s he done that has ye escaping him and coming to me?”
“If ye must know, I am being forced to marry him.” Even saying the words aloud made her nauseous.
“That is truly awful.” Alec’s voice softened as he spoke, erasing some of the broodiness she’d come to recognize in him. Perhaps he was more than his grumpy self, after all.
Giselle pressed her lips together, recalling the brief exchange she’d had with her nasty betrothed, and then said quietly, “Ye have no idea.”
“I’m failing to see why ye would leave him and seek me out? How did ye suppose I would be able to help ye? What did he say about me?”
“What? He’s no’ mentioned ye. I saw your castle on the way…” Giselle shook her head, flicks of water stinging her cheeks. “I’m no’ certain, only that I hoped—” She bit her lip. “I have no idea what I hoped. To tell the truth, I left rather impulsively, and ye were the only one in the vicinity that I knew. And...I can see now that it was a mistake. I’m sorry to have involved ye.”
“Ye say we’ve met before. And yet, I do no’ know ye.” He took a few steps forward, leaning down, and she wondered if he could recognize who she was.
In the dim light, she made out the shape of his eyes as he studied her. Despite the rain, she swore she could smell a spicy scent on him. Something like cinnamon. He took his time perusing her face, but there did not appear to be any sort of recognition on his part.
No doubt being soaked, and her face streaked with mud, was quite the disguise. She’d probably not recognize herself if she happened to peer into a looking glass.
“We’ve no’ been formally introduced no,” Giselle mused. “But as I said, we have met before.”
6
Alec stared at the sopping wet, mud-covered, bedraggled lass where he’d placed her on the floor against the wall. Her cloak had fallen away from her head, revealing drenched hair, and in the light, he couldn’t decipher the color. Her cheeks were pale, her teeth chattered a little, and he realized the flimsy cloak she wore did little to keep her warm, not when the rest of her was drenched.
He also recalled all too well what the rush of nearly dying did to a body, sending chills to wrack the limbs. If only he had some whisky that he could give her. Alas, he’d not left his castle thinking he’d be on a rescue mission.
Alec removed his jacket and held it out to her. “Take off that wet cloak and put on my jacket.”
“But ye’ll be cold.”
