Page 64 of The Scot is Hers
“Errol.”
The men climbed from their horses, the ground soft beneath their feet. Joshua had brought along his second, the same man Alec had not recognized from before.
“Who’s your second?” he asked.
“This is Almsley. He’s my horseman.”
Ah, so the mysterious breeder he’d met with the day before. Another testament to the fact that Joshua Keith had never been able to keep any friends. The man must have been promised a hefty amount of coin to stand in as second to a bastard he barely knew. And also a clue that he’d changed the time to today on purpose, perhaps to give himself another day to live.
“If ye’re ready, let’s get this over with,” Alec said, hoping that would lead Keith into declining if he wanted. “I’ve got a breakfast to attend to.”
“Ye should have canceled it,” Keith spat with all the anger his venomous eyes guaranteed.
Alec grunted in reply. They both carried their pistol boxes to the center so their seconds could inspect them, making sure they were up to snuff and nothing awry. Alec had used his plenty of times in target practice with his friends, but also on the field of battle. The weapon had saved his life more than once, and if it came to it today, he prayed it did the same now too.
As Alec’s second, Euan looked over Alec’s pistol first, and then Joshua’s, nodding in satisfaction. There’d been a split second where he wished his friend would have found fault with one or the other, so Alec could call the whole thing off. His stomach had started to twist itself into knots, and all he could imagine was Giselle waking at that moment to realize he’d left without allowing her to say goodbye, even though he’d been able to do so silently. Keith’s second checked the pistols himself, nodding when he finished.
“Ye may proceed,” Euan said.
“Thank ye for everything,” Alec said to his friends.
He passed Lorne two sealed envelopes. One for his mother and one for Giselle, should he not make it.
“Are ye certain ye want to do this?”
“Aye.” He had no choice. He had to protect Giselle’s honor and his own. This needed to end. Today.
Alec lifted his pistol from the box and marched to the place he and his friends had established would be the most advantageous spot when they’d checked the day the first scheduled duel was thwarted.
Joshua Keith took his pistol from his box and walked toward Alec.
Alec stared hard at Joshua as he approached, seeing the cruelty buried beneath the depths of his eyes. “I’ll give ye one more chance to make this right,” Alec offered. “Admit what ye did in battle, and swear to apologize to my future wife, and we can end this now. Neither of us needs to die today.”
Keith scoffed. “Ye’re an arsehole if ye think I’ll be admitting to any such thing. Do ye honestly think a woman like that would want to marry an ugly creature like ye? I’ll be pissing on your grave before the day is through.”
Alec decided not to comment further with the small-brained maggot, as it would go nowhere. Best to get on with it and pray he was home by breakfast.
He turned his back, waiting to feel the press of Joshua’s spine to his. The moment they touched, Lorne shouted, “Ten paces.”
Alec walked—sturdy on his feet, his hand still and firm on the pistol—until he was ten paces away. He drew in a long, steadying breath. Everyone around them quiet, likely not breathing either. There was a slight breeze over the moors, and one of the horses snorted.
Alec focused on his breathing and turned.
* * *
Giselle wokewith a start when the morning sun filtered through her bedroom window, indicating it was well past dawn. At first, she stretched, the warmth of the sunlight on her skin and the silken sheets beneath her welcome. She was still at Slains.
Oh, my goodness. She was still at Slains—and it was past dawn.
She threw back the covers with such force they hit the unlit candle on her nightstand, sending it flying, along with a red rose and a book.
She picked up the rose, pressing her nose to the soft petals and inhaling. Only one person could have been there to give her the rose and a book.
Alec.He’d come into her room to say goodbye, but then decided not to wake her.
She picked up the novel from the floor.Romeo and Julietby Shakespeare. A tragic love story.
“Bloody hell,” she cursed under her breath, glad her mother was not there to hear her language.
