Page 71 of The Scot’s Secret

When he squeezed her hand, Clara squeezed back.

Gilbert, I hope you can forgive me.

* * *

Alex led Clara back to the hall. Or Lady Susanna.

Whomever she was this eve, she certainly was not Alfred.

The moment Clara descended the stairs, Alex had known he was in trouble.

It had almost felt as if he was seeing her for the first time. Clara was more herself tonight. He could see it in every movement. Even her speech, which was nearly always guarded, seemed less stilted. The gown, her hair. . . they certainly drew the eye, but it was the ease with which she’d walked into the room that had grabbed his attention. And her voice which had so easily become one of a highborn lady.

He’d watched her throughout the evening, talking happily with Emma and Sara, and it was more evident than ever that Clara had been nobly born. Though she’d been remarkably adaptive out of necessity, she was meant for gowns and good graces, not smudges of dirt and a constant feeling of apprehension.

And he was determined to give her what she deserved. Permanently.

He could hear his brother laughing at him now. Alex was not too stubborn to admit Toren had been right. It mattered little that she was English. Or that they would have plenty of difficulties to work through together.

“Here,” Geoffrey handed him a mug of ale.

They stood to the side, watching as the ladies circled one another in dance, the wives of Kenshire’s retainers joining them. It seemed they’d scared the males back to their seats, or perhaps the others were as content as he and his host to simply watch the festivities.

“Gillian’s friend seems quite nice.”

Nice. He would use many words to describe Clara, and though ‘nice’ was certainly one of them, so many others sprang to mind.

“She appears to be getting along well with your sister,” he said.

“It appears so,” Geoffrey commented as the two women in question locked arms and laughed as if they had not a care in the world. She deserved this. Alex was glad the women had talked her into the ruse, even if it only lasted for a few days.

“I was so consumed with the search for my mother, I don’t believe I’ve offered my congratulations,” Alex said, nodding to Lady Sara.

Geoffrey beamed. “If it weren’t for the dangers, I would be even more overjoyed.”

They continued to watch the women, each buried in his own thoughts, until Geoffrey broke the silence.

“Does she know?”

Alex could pretend not to understand. But the effort would be futile.

“I believe so,” he said. As if she divined they were speaking about her, Clara glanced over at him. “But she doesn’t trust me completely.”

“Then earn her trust.” Geoffrey said it as if it were the easiest thing in the world to do. “But know your intentions if you don’t care to hurt her.”

Alex looked at his host.

“I fell in love with Sara well before I was prepared to do so. And nearly lost her because of it.”

“What happened?” he asked, genuinely curious.

“I finally decided to value myself as much as I did her,” he said as Sara approached them.

“Dance with me,” Sara said to her husband.

Their conversation forgotten, Geoffrey handed Alex his mug and scooped Sara up into his arms. “Gladly,” he replied, carrying his wife from the hall amidst cheers and the banging of mugs.

Alex couldn’t help but smile. He wasn’t sure if she’d referred to that kind of dance.