Page 20 of The Scot is Hers
“Aye.” She ran her hands over her wet hair and started to fiddle with threading a long, messy plait at the back, winding the tendrils with deft fingers, before unwinding it again and running her hands through the locks.
Giselle didn’t expound on her words but seemed to drift off into her thoughts as she concentrated on ringing the water from her hair.
The lass was confounding. On the one hand, she had decided to betroth herself to one of the worst people Alec had ever met, and yet on the other, she’d escaped him in a dangerous storm. What was she really about? Other than being silly and apparently reckless.
“Why did ye agree to marry Keith?”
She stopped the movement of her hands and looked at him as if he’d gone mad. “Agree?” That bitter laugh escaped her again. “I think ye misunderstand me. I did no’ agree.”
“Ye were being forced?”
“I said as much before. Do pay attention. Besides, I’m alady, and we do no’ really have a choice anyway, do we? Our das, older brothers, guardians, whoever it may be, decide our future based on what’s good for them. No’ so much what is good for us.”
Alec frowned. He hadn’t ever thought about it that way. If he had a younger sister, he would be very different, consider her feelings. No one should be made to be miserable for the rest of their days.
Marriage had been one of the last things on his mind until his mother barged into his castle this afternoon. He supposed Lady Giselle’s opinion made sense, given the disgust he’d faced when at the various events his mother had forced on him. The lasses there had not wanted to meet him or subject themselves to him, and yet they had at their parents’ behest.
“I’ll no’ force a woman to marry me,” he vowed with a study nod.
Lady Giselle snorted and resumed plaiting her hair. “How very noble of ye, but I suspect when ye decide ye want something, ye’re no’ afraid to get it.”
Alec grunted. “A lass is no’ athing, and I’ll no’ take such an undertaking as finding a wife as something so trivial toget.”
Giselle snorted. “Interesting. Ye mean to say ye know something of wooing? That ye’d want your wife actually to like ye, maybe love ye?”
“What’s that supposed to mean? Ye dinna believe me? Of course, I know something of wooing. And obviously, I want her to like me. Love, however, I know is a fleeting emotion.”
“I am no’ in a position to believe ye or no’. After all, I did no’ nickname ye the Beast of Errol for no reason.”
Alec sputtered, “Beast of Errol. Of all the—”
She interrupted him, continuing as if he’d said nothing. “All I can tell ye is my own experience, and it has no’ been positive. I’ve put off marrying as far as my parents seemed willing to let me, and now they’ve foisted Sir Joshua Keith on my head. And he has foisted himself on me, despite my protestations. There is no like, and certainly no love, in our forced connection.”
Alec started from his irritation at being labeled a beast of anything, focusing on the words she’d just articulated. “He forced himself on ye?” He balled his hands into fists. He didn’t know the lass well, but that didn’t matter. He’d be irate on her behalf where Sir Joshua was concerned. That bastard deserved a sound beating. And he wouldn’t put it past him to ill-treat a woman either. How many times when they’d been overseas had he needed to intervene on a camp lightskirt’s behalf where Keith was concerned? The bastard was an arsehole.
She waved her hand in the air as if batting away a fly. “No’ in the way ye’re thinking. But I imagine if I’d no’ made my feelings clear by running away, that was likely to come next.” The way she spoke so matter-of-factly as if this were nothing, an everyday occurrence, made his chest burn with anger.
“Do your parents know he’s such a cad? I’d be happy to tell them for ye.”Oh, do please let me tell them.Better yet, he’d show them by punching Keith square in the jaw.
Lady Giselle glanced over at him sharply. “Ye do no’ like Sir Joshua Keith.” It wasn’t a question but rather an astute acknowledgment of the truth.
“Was I so obvious?” Alec didn’t keep the sarcasm from his voice.
She nodded, and in a flash of lightning, he could see her smile. “I do no’ blame ye. I find him to be quite terrible.”
“Something we have in common.” However, Alec would have used a much harsher word than terrible.
“Then ye’ve changed your mind and promise to keep my secret.”
“Maybe.”
“I’ll take maybe over nay. Your lips are sealed.”
The truth was, right about now, Alec would be fine if they both never returned to their prospective purgatories. The ruined, dreary, soaked abbey felt a whole lot better anyway. He could hunt, provide food—that was until the winter months came and they needed more suitable shelter. But by then, his mother’s guests should have left, and they could take over his castle.
Alec steadied his gaze on Lady Giselle. She grinned at him, a teasing glint in the set of her mouth and the twinkle in her eyes. It was the first real smile he’d seen from her since yanking her from certain death, and the very sight of it took his breath away, mud-splattered and all.
Alec was amazed. The lass wasn’t shying away from him. She wasn’t cowering in shock. Or begging him to return her from where she’d run. It felt so odd to be treated like a man and not some mindless barbarian. Like a partner almost, in a crime they’d both fashioned.
