Page 9 of The Scot is Hers
New Slains Castle, Scotland
“Alec! Alec, where are ye?”
The sound of his mother’s shrill voice broke uncomfortably into Alec’s reverie. Was his imagination getting the better of him? His mother had not been to Slains Castle in the last few years that he’d holed up there, calling the place gloomy and without civilization, which suited him fine.
Alec sat up straighter, sliding his finger between the pages of his book as he concentrated on listening. There was the distinct bustle of commotion from somewhere in the great castle.
He strained for the sound of her voice. Not once in the weekly correspondence she sent had she warned him of her impending visit. Of course, she wasn’t forbidden from coming to Slains. Indeed, he’d made it plenty well known that he would welcome her if she did since she was always begging him to return to the city. A request he was bound to deny for the sake of his sanity.
What was she doing here now specifically, though? And today of all days when the gloom outside made the castle especially dark and odious?
Lady Errol, the soon to be Dowager Countess of Errol if she had her way, never did anything spontaneously. And when it appeared that she was doing so, it was a great trick—as this must be. A sense of dread wrapped its way around his spine. What was his mother up to?
“Alec!” That was definitely his mother, and her voice was getting closer, as was the sound of her heels clicking on the wooden floor in the corridor beyond.
The door to his massive library burst open, revealing his mother’s slight frame. She was dressed impeccably as usual in a blue day dress that was all the fashion, he was certain. Not that he kept up with fashion, but he was well aware that his mother did. Despite having arrived by carriage, and who knew how many days she’d spent on the road, her hair was also perfectly styled, with her reddish-brown locks curled in ringlets, the light capturing some of the silver threads that had started to streak her temples. She wore a simple strand of pearls, which she’d told him from a young age were the only jewels she was willing to part with if she was accosted on the road by thieves. When he’d asked why she wore anything at all, she’d responded that a lady never left her home without her adornments.
“Mother,” Alec drawled out. He pushed himself to stand from the comfort of his well-loved leather wingback chair and set down his book, saving the place with his favorite bookmark, a thin slice of wood with his initials burned on it that he’d made as a lad with his grandfather. “What an unexpected and yet no’ disappointing surprise.”
He approached her with caution as if she were an aberration about to change into a true demonic form.
The countess’s face split into a thrilling and beguiling smile, the one that always melted away any irritation he had with her meddling, and tossed herself into his arms, nearly unbalancing him in the process.
“Oh, my dear son. Why have ye abandoned me for so long? I begged and begged ye to come home.” She pouted up at him. This move he’d seen her do to his father more than once, and usually, it got her out of whatever trouble she was in. It didn’t work on Alec, and he guessed the trouble this time was her surprise visit.
“Iamhome, Mama.” He wrapped his arms around her slight figure, smelling the familiar scent of her French perfume.
She ignored him and continued, “I had to come all the way up from Edinburgh to make certain ye were still breathing.” Lady Errol leaned back and pretended to swat him.
“But I’ve written back to all of your letters. Have ye no’ received my replies? Certainly, seeing my signature on paper was proof of life.” Alec played along with her, wallowing if only to please her into thinking she was getting what she wanted.
She waved away his answer and clucked her tongue. “Och, of course, I have.”
“Then ye must know I’m no’ dead.” He grinned widely, waiting for the ball to drop when she could no longer stand his teasing.
“Well, tucked up here, ye might as well be.” She ran her finger over the table and then the mantle, checking for dust, he was certain. The tip of her gloved finger came back clean, and Alec kept his comments to himself about how he was quite capable of running his household and did she remember he was nearly thirty?
Aye, he was in a grand castle that reminded his mother of Purgatory, no doubt, but Alec had not come without a full staff.
“Ye’re surprisingly dry for the weather,” he said instead.
Lady Errol whirled around with a perfunctory nod before bending to check the water level in a crystal vase. “My groom is very efficient.”
“He can stop the rain?” Alec goaded.
That got the reaction he hoped for, which was a small chuckle. “Something like that.” She touched her hair, perhaps to make certain it was all still in place, which of course, it was.
“Is anything the matter?” Alec asked. His mind raced to think of what might have happened to have his mother traipsing the countryside in this weather when she dared not leave her social circles in Edinburgh on pain of death. “There must be some reason ye rushed here without word.”
“There is nothing the matter. In fact, all is about to be well with the world. Can a mother no’ surprise her beloved son with a visit? After all, ye are my only child. I missed ye.” She smiled sweetly, but he could see through the ruse. His mother had some sort of plan concocted and thrust up her sleeve.
Alec cocked his head to the side, curious now. Because while he and his mother had a mostly decent relationship, they werenotthe type who dropped everything on a whim and ran hundreds of miles simply to say hello. He’d been brought up much differently than that. Visits between parents and their offspring were well planned with all the strictures of a social call in place. Surprise visits went well beyond what his mother considered decent. “How so, Mama?”
The countess sighed quite heavily, which set his nerves on edge. She was about to confess the true reason for this visit, and whatever it was, he was well and truly terrified for it. “I have brought civilization to ye.”
Alec narrowed his eyes. That did not sound promising at all. For more reasons than one, the most important being he hated society and all it contained. “What do ye mean ye’ve brought civilization?” He backed away from his mother, headed toward the window to peer outside, afraid of what he was going to see.
“I knew if I told ye, ye’d disappear. And it is high time ye rejoined the living. Namely the aristocratic social circles. Ye need a wife.”
