Page 44 of The Scot is Hers
Lady Errol sniffed, her chin rising all the more. If she craned her neck back any farther, it would snap. Of course, the lady’s disdain made Giselle feel a particular self-consciousness that she didn’t normally experience. Suddenly, she was aware of the flaws in her face, the way her nose might be considered a little too pointy. That her chin had a slight dimple in it. That the gown she wore wasn’t her own and that she wore her hair plainer than her mother might have allowed her to.
If the dowager countess decided to up that timeline, which it sounded like she wanted to do, Giselle didn’t know what she would do. She wasn’t ready. Well, if she were honest with herself, that was a situation she’d never be ready for. At least with Alec by her side, she’d be able to stand up to her family with an ally. But if his mother were against the union, she could make a lot of trouble for Giselle. Even perhaps convince her son not to go through with the wedding.
Was it possible Giselle could be honest with this woman? Maybe just a little more honest. If she knew they’d met before, perhaps that would help her understand it wasn’t by some elaborate hoax Giselle had set up.
“My lady, I met Lord Errol for the first time when ye hosted a ball for him in Edinburgh several years ago.” Giselle smiled.
“Oh?” Lady Errol’s nose came down a notch. That was a good sign.
“Aye. I found him charming then, as I do now.”
The dowager countess sat forward, genuine curiosity in her gaze, and if Giselle wasn’t mistaken, she was looking at her a little different too. “Do go on, Lady Giselle.”
“I think ye’ll find me different than some of the other ladies who may have shown an interest in your son to date in that I have an interest inhim.”
“Then why did ye wait until now to move forward in this interest?” The curiosity she’d exhibited a moment before evaporated into suspicion. “Why did ye agree to marry another?”
“For one thing, at the time, I was no’ prepared to make a commitment.” She chose to ignore the latter question for now.
The lady scowled.
“I know that is no’ a ladylike perspective, per se, and believe me, my parents did frown upon it. But I knew at the time if I were forced to make a match, I’d be a terrible wife, and that would have been unfair to any man. Especially a man as good as your son.”
The countess did not look convinced.
“In any case,” Giselle continued, “My parents began making enquiries and trying to form attachments for me.”
“As they should. And as a dutiful daughter, ye should have agreed.”
“If their choice of a husband had been a decent man, I would have.”
“Ye speak of Sir Joshua Keith.”
Giselle nodded, searching the woman’s face for any sort of recognition that Keith was the man who’d been the one to bring her son into the state he was in. His enemy. There was none. Had Alec not told her? Most likely, the woman was very good at hiding her reactions. Something that Giselle needed to work on.
“Suffice it to say, Sir Joshua Keith has no’ been a gentleman where I am concerned. And as a lady yourself, I’m sure ye can understand how that would no’ sit well.”
Now, that seemed to gather the countess’s interest. “How so?”
“He has attempted on numerous occasions to take liberties with my person—against my wishes.”
Lady Errol’s face became rigid, and she didn’t speak for several beats as she collected her hidden thoughts into a simple question. “Was he successful?”
Giselle kept her eyes steady on the older woman as she answered, “No’ in my ruination, nay.”
“But in other ways.” There was no censure in her words or expression, simply a fact stated, though she did search Giselle as if trying to pick truth from fiction.
Giselle looked away this time, finding it hard to stare into the unrelenting eyes of Alec’s mother, fearing the judgment she might find there. “Aye.”
“And that is how ye found yourself riding near death when my son found ye.”
Giselle glanced back at Lady Errol, surprised at the kind note in her tone. “Aye, that’s correct.”
“And he saved ye.”
Giselle nodded. “In more ways than one.”
“So, ye would say ye owed him a debt of gratitude.” The sudden spring in Lady Errol’s tone and expression had Giselle worried.
