Connie Mason (15 page)

Kimbra’s eyes narrowed. “You can’t send me away. The king personally chose me for your bride. He will be swift to punish you for your disobedience.”

“I’ll take that chance,” Damian replied. “I intend to send a letter of explanation to the king with one of my own men. The letter should reach London before you do.”

“I’m sure we can work this out to our mutual satisfaction,” Kimbra wheedled. “Don’t let a Jacobite traitor come between us.”

Damian’s contempt was palpable. “There is no
us,
Kimbra. There never was. Pack your belongings. Your escort will be waiting after you break your fast in the morning.”

Kimbra’s gasp of outrage went unheeded as Damian slammed out the door. Sending Kimbra away would probably lose him both his title and Misterly, but nothing could convince him to wed Kimbra. She wasn’t the kind of wife he wanted. He had no intention of living in London, or taking a wife who craved only the excitement city life offered.

An outrageous thought suddenly occurred to Damian and he nearly laughed aloud when he paused to ponder the ramifications. It would mean openly defying the king, but at this point it no longer mattered. In fact, the more Damian thought about it, the less outrageous the idea became.

Still smiling, Damian took the solar steps two at a time, rapped on Elissa’s door, and entered. He found her sitting on the edge of the bed, reaching for her robe.

“How are you feeling?” he asked.

Elissa slanted him a defiant look. “Do you really care? How did you find out I’d left the keep?”

“Kimbra raised the alarm. You should have known better than to trust her,” he said bluntly. “Are you in pain?”

What a fool she’d been to believe Kimbra, Elissa thought regretfully. She touched her injured head. “I’ve felt better.”

“You were lucky. The bullet just grazed you. I was led to believe you were a Gordon spy.” He regarded her thoughtfully. “Why did you leave?”

She blinked up at him. “You and Kimbra were to speak your vows. I wasna willing to live at Misterly as your mistress. Kimbra hates me; life would have been unbearable had I remained.”

Her gaze wavered. “I decided to flee to Glenmoor, to my kinswoman, Christy Macdonald.”

“You weren’t fleeing to Tavis Gordon?” Damian asked with surprise.

“Nay. I’m done with Tavis.”

“There’s no need for you to go anywhere now,” Damian said. “There will be no wedding. I’m sending Kimbra and her entourage back to London tomorrow.”

Elissa’s eyes rounded and her mouth fell open. “Why? You have to wed Kimbra in order to keep Misterly.”

Damian’s determination did not waver. “I’m hoping the king will understand once he reads my letter explaining the misalliance between me and Kimbra. I can protect Misterly without Kimbra as my wife.”

Elissa leaned back against the pillows and studied Damian through narrowed lids. She tried to imagine what Damian’s decision meant for her family…and for her. She acknowledged his desire to keep his newly acquired lands, but not his stubborn compulsion to defy his king.

She was about to ask Damian to let her go to Glenmoor when Maggie opened the door and peered into the chamber. “Yer mother and sister wish to visit ye, Elissa.”

Lady Marianne entered the chamber behind Maggie. She was walking slowly, but Elissa was thrilled at the progress her mother was making.

“Mother, is it wise for you to be exerting yourself?”

“Aye, daughter, I’m determined to regain my strength.”

Suddenly Lora shot past Marianne. “Lissa! Are you all right? Mama said you were hurt. I wasna allowed to leave the solar these past two days, but I knew something was amiss.” Her gaze turned to Damian. “You dinna hurt Elissa, did you?”

Before Damian could answer, Elissa said, “’Twas an accident, Lora.” She patted the side of the bed. “Sit down beside me, both of you. How long have you been up and about, Mama?”

Lady Marianne perched on the side of the bed while Lora climbed into Elissa’s lap. “For some time now, though I havena left the solar or attempted the stairs.” She sent a meaningful look at Damian. “I need to be strong for my family. Lady Kimbra wishes us ill. ’Tis why I’ve kept Lora close since the arrival of Lord Damian’s bride.”

“You need worry no longer, my lady,” Damian assured her. “Kimbra is returning to London.”

A faint smile curved Marianne’s lips as her gaze moved from Damian to Elissa. “God moves in mysterious ways. How are you feeling, daughter? I’ve been worried despite Nan’s assurance that you suffered no serious harm.”

“As you can see,” Elissa said, “I’m fine.”

“What about the villagers, my lord? Are they being provided for? Were my husband alive, he would see to their needs.”

“The villagers are my responsibility now,” Damian said. “The cottages are being inspected for damage and the necessary repairs made. I’m providing food and whatever else they need to make them comfortable. We should fare well this winter. Ripened fruit is fairly falling off the trees, wheat is golden in the fields, and vegetable gardens are thriving. We’ve lost some sheep to reivers, but I foresee no shortage of food in the near future.”

Marianna appeared pleased. “’Tis as it should be. Misterly has always provided for its own.”

“Can you play with me, Elissa?” Lora piped up, apparently weary of grown-up talk.

“Nay,” Damian said, before Elissa could answer. “Your sister needs to rest today.”

“We’ll start lessons again tomorrow,” Elissa promised when she noted Lora’s disappointment.

“Come, Lora,” Marianne said, rising. “’Tis time we left. Lord Damian said the danger is over so you can play in the courtyard with the other children today.”

“Aye,” Damian concurred. “Misterly is safe now; you may move about as you please.”

“Is there anything else you require, Elissa?” Maggie asked before she followed Marianne and Lora out the door

“Nay, thank you, Maggie. I should be up and about tomorrow.”

“You should be exactly where you are,” Damian said sternly. “I’ll leave so you can rest.”

Elissa was startled when Damian bent and kissed her fully on the lips. It was a strange kiss. It tasted of carefully controlled passion, of possessiveness, and something else. When he finally released her mouth, Elissa couldn’t help wondering if he’d kissed Kimbra in the same manner. Then he was gone, leaving Elissa longing for something a loyal Highlander shouldn’t want.

Elissa was almost asleep when she realized someone was standing beside the bed. She opened her eyes, startled to see Kimbra standing over her.

“You haven’t won yet,” Kimbra hissed venomously. “The king will be told how you used your wiles to turn Damian against me. Damian is mine. You can’t have him.” She touched her stomach, a sly smile curving her lips. “I’m almost certain I’m carrying his child.”

A cry of dimay shot past Elissa’s lips. Kimbra was carrying Damian’s bairn? “Nay, how can that be? ’Tis too soon to tell.”

“A woman knows her own body,” Kimbra replied. “Even you must be aware that a child usually results when two people couple. I will insist that the king punish you harshly for your deceitful ways.”

“I’ve done naught!” Elissa protested. “You’ve brought this on yourself.”

Kimbra made a derisive sound in her throat and whirled on her heel. “Enjoy your freedom while it lasts,” she threw over her shoulder.

Elissa remained in her chamber the following morning until Kimbra and her party had left for London. She watched from the window as they rode off, then made her way below to the hall. Her legs were still wobbly but her head didn’t hurt nearly as badly as it had the day before.

Elissa saw Damian speaking with a group of men and slipped past him to break her fast in the kitchen with people she knew and loved. For some reason she was hungrier than usual this morning and ate with gusto. When she left the kitchen, she walked headlong into the hard wall of Damian’s chest.

“Were you trying to avoid me?” he asked with amusement.

Elissa’s cheeks reddened beneath his disarming smile. Suddenly recalling the startling news Kimbra had revealed to her last night, she pushed herself away and glared up at him.

“Should you be out of bed?” Damian asked.

“I’m fine,” she answered coolly.

Damian nodded but didn’t look convinced. “I’ve been looking for you. I thought you’d be pleased to know that the damage to the village was minimal. The rain prevented what could have been a tragedy. Only six cottages lost their roofs and the rest were only slightly damaged. Some furnishings were lost, but nothing that can’t be replaced or repaired. At least no lives were lost. Father Hugh said the church had been spared.”

“What about the tradesmen? Did their shops survive the fire?”

“Most are intact. I’ve already sent to Inverness for materials and supplies not readily available at Misterly.”

“I’m sure my kinsmen are grateful,” Elissa said. “If you’ll excuse me, I promised Nan I’d help with the wounded.”

“There’s something I’d like to discuss with you,” Damian said.

“We have nothing to discuss.”

Damian sent her a curious look. “What’s wrong? You sound angry. I didn’t shoot you intentionally, if that’s what’s bothering you.”

Elissa bristled. “That’s not it at all. You shouldn’t have sent her away.”

“Are you referring to Kimbra? I thought you’d be happy to see the last of her.”

“That was before…”

“Before what?”

“If you donna know, ’tis not my place to tell you.” She marched away, head held high, shoulders squared.

“Coward,” Damian called after her.

Elissa worked in the infirmary beside Nan until all the wounded had been treated.

“Time to wash up and join our kinsmen for the noon meal,” Nan said, as she ushered Elissa to the small chamber separate from the infirmary where fresh water and towels awaited.

“There you are,” Damian said as he entered the dimly lit chamber. “How are the wounded faring?”

“Well on the road to recovery, yer lordship,” Nan replied.

“Excellent,” Damian said. “The noon meal is being served. Are you finished here?”

“Aye, but sit ye down first so I can change yer bandage.”

Startled, Elissa’s gaze traveled over Damian, looking for an injury. She saw nothing to indicate he’d been hurt.

“’Tis but an insignificant scratch and nearly healed,” Damian maintained.

“I insist, me lord,” Nan said, leading him to a bench. “Infection is a danger no matter how slight the wound.”

Damian sat down and lifted his arm for Nan’s inspection.

“Raise yer shirtsleeve while I fetch my basket from the infirmary,” Nan directed.

Elissa gave a small cry as she stared at Damian’s arm. A blood-soaked bandage covered a slash from shoulder to elbow. She dropped down beside him and carefully peeled away the soiled bandage.

“I thought you said ’twas nothing.”

Damian shrugged. “A minor annoyance. It looks worse than it is.”

Nan rejoined them a moment later. “’Tis a shallow wound, but all wounds have the potential to fester.” She smiled approvingly. “Yer wound is clean and healthy, me lord. Elissa can apply salve and a fresh bandage. She is as adept at it as I am.”

Elissa sent Nan a fulminating look. Nan returned the look with a knowing grin and hurried off. Elissa returned her attention to Damian; he was staring at her with an intensity that sent shards of awareness coursing through her.

“The bandage, Elissa,” he reminded softly.

Elissa blinked and reached for his arm. She felt him shiver and jerked her gaze to his face. “Did I hurt you?”

“Nay, please continue.”

Elissa bent to her task, fearing she would melt beneath the blistering heat of his gaze. Merely touching Damian made her forget Kimbra existed, and that Damian was an English rogue who trampled on women’s feelings. She and Damian had no future together; she refused to become mistress to a man she despised on every level…every level but one. When he made love to her, he made her feel as if he truly cared for her.

Elissa could never suffer fools, and she was the worst kind. If Kimbra carried Damian’s bairn, of course he must marry her.

After tying off Damian’s bandage, Elissa rose and shook out her skirts. Damian surged to his feet; his eyes were hooded, his thoughts unfathomable. Elissa distrusted this inscrutable side of Damian and retreated a step, then another. He followed, stalking her until she felt the cold wall against her back and the searing heat of his body pressing against her.

Damian’s silver eyes darkened to pewter as he grasped her waist with both hands and held her captive, the hard press of his rigid sex prodding relentlessly between her thighs. Mesmerized, she felt her gaze latch onto his mouth, hovering over hers, close, so close she could see the pulse beating at the base of his neck. Why did her breath catch in her throat and her body quiver with need? She chided herself for a witless fool even as she raised her mouth to his.

His kiss destroyed her will. Her resistance shattered and she melted into his embrace, her body seeking the pleasure she knew only he could give her. His hands sought her breasts and she moaned into his mouth, sagging against him; the pleasure of his touch made her tremble. Then he was dragging her over to the bench, his caresses growing more demanding as he eased her down upon the hard surface.

Elissa was aware of nothing but the raging need he aroused in her. She felt cool air upon her breasts, dimly aware that Damian had lowered her bodice. A sigh left her throat as he bent to her and took a nipple into his mouth. She arched against him, offering him more of herself for his thrilling caress.

“Elissa,” Damian moaned against her skin. “I need this. I need you.”

She felt his hand beneath her skirt, sliding between her legs, cupping her. Her heart slammed against her ribs. For a wild, unprincipled moment she wanted him as badly as he wanted her. Her legs fell open, inviting a more intimate touch. He eagerly obliged, whispering endearments against her mouth as his fingers explored her cleft.

“Open for me, sweeting. Kimbra is gone. No one will stop us from taking what we want.”

Damian’s words had a devastating effect upon Elissa. Kimbra! How could she forget? Damian had the power of a sorcerer. With a single kiss he had wiped the memory of Kimbra’s parting words from her mind.

She pushed against his chest. “Nay! Let me up. You canna do this.”

Damian reared up, confusion furrowing his brow. “Did I hurt you? Does your head hurt?”

Elissa slid from beneath him, her eyes blazing fury. “How dare you! Donna touch me.”

“What have I done?”

Elissa took a deep, steadying breath. “Your treatment of women is abominable. How could you send Lady Kimbra away? She’s carrying your bairn. I dinna admire Kimbra, but I wouldna like to be treated with such callous disregard were I carrying your bairn.”

“What?”

Damian appeared astounded but Elissa wasn’t so easily fooled.

“I never heard such nonsense. If Kimbra is carrying a child, it bloody well isn’t mine. I never touched the woman.”

Elissa snorted in disbelief. “Liar! Lady Kimbra told me herself that you were her lover. I saw you kissing her. She’s very beautiful, my lord, a virile man’s dream.”

“Not my dream,” Damian retorted. “If there was a remote chance that Kimbra carried my child, I would have wed her. If anyone is carrying my child, ’tis you.”

Uttering a cry of denial, Elissa whirled away, straightening her clothing and hair as she fled.

“Elissa! Wait! I just remembered something Nan said.”

But it was too late. Elissa was gone. Damian followed behind at a slower pace. He needed time to compose himself. His arousal was thick and hard and his need undiminished. He took several deep breaths, trying to make sense out of everything Elissa had said, and the things that were left unsaid.

Damian hadn’t been oblivious to the consequences when he released his seed inside Elissa, but he had deliberately ignored his conscience to appease his own selfish pleasure. And only Elissa could tell him the truth.

Once he gained control of himself, he made his way to the hall. The meal was still in progress but Elissa was nowhere in sight. He forced himself to sit down and eat, tasting little of what went into his mouth. He had plans to make and bring to fruition. He realized he was treading on dangerous ground, and that the king could punish him for disobeying orders, but he was determined to forge ahead, even if Elissa refused him.

“You look like a man with something on his mind,” Sir Richard said as he slid into the seat beside Damian. “Are you worried that Kimbra will renounce you to the king? Pray that your letter reaches His Majesty before Kimbra gets to him. You advised him that you repelled an attack on Misterly, did you not? That should put you in his good graces.”

“One never knows with the king,” Damian grumbled.

“Do you intend to make Elissa your mistress now that Kimbra is gone?”

“Nay, I have other plans for Elissa.”

“Tell me, I’m all ears.”

“You’ll learn soon enough. Do you happen to know if Father Hugh has returned to the village?”

“He left with a wagonload of food from our stores to feed those who have returned to their homes. Shall I fetch him for you?”

“Nay. I’ll see to it myself.”

Dickon sent him a curious look. “What’s going on, Damian?”

“What’s going on with you and Maggie, Dickon?” Damian replied, deftly skirting Dickon’s question. “Have you bedded the wench yet?”

Dickon’s handsome face reddened. “Aye, but I had to promise I’d wed her first.”

“You promised to wed her?” Damian choked out. “And she believed you? Was she an innocent?”

Dickon’s flush deepened. “Aye, I did indeed take her maidenhead.”

“Then you shall marry her, my friend. I suggest you set a date.”

“Bloody hell, Damian! I’ve told countless women I’d marry them. ’Tis all part of the game.”

“Not to Maggie, it isn’t. She’s not one of your London doxies. She’s Elissa’s kinswoman and ignorant of the games men play. I won’t allow you to dishonor her.”

Dickon half rose from his chair. “Like you dishonored Elissa? We’re one of a kind, Damian. Bloody hell, we’ve even shared women. Elissa is no different from the dozens of other women you’ve bedded.”

“There’s a big difference, Dickon. I’m going to make Elissa my wife, so be careful what you say about her.”

Dickon fell back into his chair, a stunned expression on his face. “You’re marrying Elissa? Are you mad? The king will use your ballocks for target practice. I hope you’re prepared to lose Misterly and everything else you’ve been given.”

“Perhaps it won’t come to that,” Damian ventured. “I want her, Dickon. I’ve never wanted a woman more than I want Elissa.”

“I beg you. Keep her as your mistress but don’t defy the king. I’ve been your friend a long time and I care what happens to you.”

“Forget about me and Elissa. Let’s talk about you and Maggie. Do you care for her?”

“I’m not ready to let this drop yet,” Dickon said bluntly. “Has Elissa agreed to marry you?”

“She will. Enough, Dickon. I’ve made my decision; there’s nothing more to discuss. Now if you’ll excuse me, I’m off to the village.”

Dickon stared pensively after Damian as he strode away. Why was his friend being so stubborn about this? The king’s anger wasn’t to be taken lightly. When he saw Maggie enter the hall, his thoughts scattered and he hurried after her.

Elissa prowled her chamber like a restless cat, Damian’s parting words still echoing in her brain.

If anyone carries my child, ’tis you.

Could it be true? She pressed a hand against her flat stomach. It was far too soon to tell, but she seriously doubted she carried Damian’s bairn, and she intended for it to remain that way. Just because Nan seemed to think she carried a bairn didn’t make it so.

Aware that she couldn’t hide in her chamber forever, Elissa left her room, and met Sir Brody and her mother in the passageway.

“Elissa,” Marianne greeted excitedly. “Sir Brody has arranged for a pony cart to take me to the village. I wanted to see for myself how our clansmen are faring. Would you like to come along?”

“That’s a wonderful idea, Mama,” Elissa enthused. “Shall we take Lora with us?”

“She’s already there. Lachlan invited her to spend the day with his family.”

The cart was waiting for them in the courtyard. Sir Brody lifted Marianne onto the seat while Elissa climbed in and took up the reins. “I can drive the cart, Sir Brody,” Elissa said. “No need for you to tag along.”

“Are you sure, my lady? Lord Damian said…”

“I donna care what Lord Damian said. I’m perfectly capable of driving myself and Mama to the village.”

“We’ll be fine,” Marianne concurred.

Though still skeptical, Sir Brody buckled beneath Marianne’s sweet smile. He bowed and backed away. “If you have no further need of me, I shall return to my duties.”

Elissa had no idea if Damian would approve of her leaving the keep, and she didn’t care. She was so happy to see her mother take an interest in life again that she wouldn’t miss the chance of an outing for anything.

Elissa handled the cart with ease as she drove along the winding road to the village, elated at her mother’s renewed interest in life. Before Damian had arrived at Misterly, Elissa was convinced her mother was on her deathbed. Admittedly, Damian had made a difference since becoming the Lord of Misterly. Even her kinsmen had become energized and more mindful of their responsibilities. Damian might be a hated Englishman, but he had brought stability and purpose to Misterly.

Elissa wondered what would happen to them if the king stripped Damian of his title and lands. Damian shouldn’t have been so quick to send Kimbra away. From what Elissa had heard about the Hanover king and those who served him, they were unforgiving when crossed.

“You’re quiet, daughter,” Marianne said. “Is your head hurting?”

“My head is fine, Mama,” Elissa assured her. “I was just wondering what will become of us should Damian lose Misterly.”

Marianne’s brow puckered. “Pray that willna happen. We could get a new lord less agreeable than Lord Damian.”

“There’s the village up ahead,” Elissa said excitedly. “It seems like forever since I’ve been there. Shall we visit the shops first? Damian said most had survived the fires.”

“Nay, take me to the kirk,” Marianne said. “’Tis been too long since I’ve prayed in a house of worship. I have much to be grateful for despite our sad losses.”

Elissa reined the horse down the narrow, cobbled street that was the main thoroughfare. “Father Hugh was right,” she observed. “Damage to the cottages and shops is minimal. Nevertheless, I’ll never forgive Tavis Gordon. What he did is reprehensible.”

“Aye,” Marianne concurred. “I strongly objected to the marriage between you and the Gordon chieftain, but your father was adamant. I dinna like Tavis then and I donna like him now.”

“I donna like him, either,” Elissa said. The day Tavis had demanded that she kill Damian had been the day she’d lost all regard for her intended bridegroom.

Elissa drew rein before the kirk and scrambled down from the cart to help her mother.

“Isna that Lord Damian’s horse?” Marianne asked, indicating the sleekly muscled animal tethered to the kirk fence.

Elissa’s answer was forestalled when Damian came striding from the kirk with Father Hugh trailing in his wake. He saw the cart and stopped abruptly. Elissa met his hard gaze without flinching. She’d done nothing wrong. As Damian forged his way toward her, she wondered if he’d visited the kirk to ask God’s forgiveness for his sins.

“Lady Marianne, how good to see you looking so radiant,” Damian said courteously. “Next time you decide to leave the keep, however, please inform me so I can provide a proper escort. Sir Brody was wrong to let you venture out on your own.”

“Oh, nay, my lord, donna blame Sir Brody. He wanted to accompany us, but Elissa…I mean, I told him it wasna necessary.”

“Donna apologize to him, Mama,” Elissa said, bristling. “No one would dare harm us.”

Damian sent Elissa an inscrutable look. “One never knows. Next time, I expect you to ask permission to leave the keep.”

Elissa stiffened. “Surely there can be no harm in visiting our clansmen. They’ve suffered a loss and we merely wished to offer our support.”

“As you can see, everything is well in hand.”

Father Hugh stepped between the bickering couple. “Lord Damian, perhaps Lady Marianne would like to step inside the kirk while you and Lady Elissa settle your differences. If you intend to go through with what we just discussed, I strongly advise you and Elissa to learn to get along with one another.”

“Forgive me, Father,” Damian said. “I bow to your better judgment.”

Elissa thought Damian looked more fierce than sorry. Something was afoot, something she was sure she wasn’t going to like.

“I’d love to sit inside the kirk and meditate for a while,” Marianne said. “Would you aid me, my lord?”

Damian lifted Lady Marianne from the cart as if she weighed no more than a bird and set her on her feet.

“I will escort Lady Marianne inside,” Father Hugh said, offering Marianne his arm.

Elissa waited until Marianne and Father Hugh disappeared inside the kirk before she returned her attention to Damian. Looking at him was a mistake, she decided. If ever a man deserved to be called the Demon Knight, it was the brooding man standing before her. She’d seen him angry, she’d seen him lost to passion, but she’d never seen the look he now wore on his face.

Intense, aye, smoldering, mayhap, and utterly beguiling. He was the seductive male animal, sure of himself and his power, masterful, arrogant. But there was something else; a look that puzzled her. Could it be vulnerability? That was impossible. An arrogant man like Damian would never expose his vulnerable side to anyone.

A tense silence stretched between them. Finally, Elissa asked, “Did you come to the kirk to pray?”

Damian’s brooding visage suddenly lightened. “I’ve reached a decision about your future, Elissa, and I wished to discuss it with Father Hugh.”

Elissa stared at him. Her future? What did Father Hugh have to do with her future? The convent! Of course. Damian was conferring with the priest about the arrangements.