Connie Mason (16 page)

“I knew it would come to this,” Elissa retorted. “You were waiting until Mama recovered to send us away. Have you changed your mind about Lady Kimbra? Will you go to London and fetch her?”

Damian’s voice was low, harsh, and taut with wary tension. “You misunderstand, Elissa. You and I are going to marry. I came to the kirk to make arrangements with your priest.”

Elissa paled. “Marry? You and I? You’re mad.”

“’Tis the logical solution.”

“The king willna permit it.”

“I care not.”

“I refuse to wed an English butcher.”

Damian scowled. “I’d prefer not to be called a butcher. Your kinsmen have come to respect me. I am slowly gaining their trust. I feel certain they will approve of our marriage.”

“You canna abandon the woman who carries your bairn.”

Damian’s eyes glittered with amusement. “I’m not abandoning her, I’m marrying her.”

Elissa glared at him. “You are mistaken, my lord, I am not carrying your bairn. Believe me, I’d be the first to know.”

Damian sent her a smug smile. “If you’re not with child, you soon will be. You’re going to marry me, Elissa, and that’s final.”

“Why?”

Damian assumed a thoughtful look. “Why? Because I’d rather have you than the woman the king chose for me. Is that so strange? You’ve always known I wanted you.”

“I’m a Jacobite and the daughter of a traitor.”

“You’re a woman, a beautiful, passionate woman.”

“I hate Englishmen.”

“The war ended years ago.”

“My countrymen are still being oppressed.”

“You can’t blame me for that. Think about it, Elissa. We both love Misterly. I’ve made it mine and I won’t give it up without a fight. We can join forces and do what’s best for your clansmen.”

“That’s impossible.”

“Truthfully, Elissa, do you hate me?”

Elissa bit her lip as she considered Damian’s question. The answer was as complex as the man who stood before her. After considerable thought, she knew there was but one answer. “I donna hate you, Damian.”

“I’ve never hated you, sweeting.”

“What
do
you feel for me?” Elissa blurted out. “Do you love me?”

Elissa saw the subtle change in Damain’s expression and gave way to despair. Only a fool would believe a man like Damian wanted anything from her but her body. He believed their marriage a good political move, one that would unite her clansmen against the Gordons and protect his claim to Misterly. The Demon Knight didn’t love, he possessed.

“You’re asking for more than I’m prepared to give,” Damian muttered. “Love makes a man vulnerable, and I can’t afford to become weak. I care for you a great deal and promise to honor our vows. How many men would make that kind of concession?”

Elissa stared at him in blatant disbelief. Damian had just promised to be a faithful husband. Should she believe him? He might honor their vows as long as he remained at Misterly, but would he be able to resist bedding other women when he traveled to London, or Inverness, or any other large town? She’d be stupid to expect him to remain at Misterly and not seek diversion elsewhere from time to time.

“Elissa, did you not hear me? I vowed to remain true to our marriage vows. Can you make the same promise? You’re still not infatuated with Tavis Gordon, are you?”

“I want nothing to do with that man,” she spat. “He has room for naught but vengeance in his heart. You appear to bear no malice for my kinsmen. And my mother and sister are kindly disposed toward you.”

“Then ’tis settled,” Damian announced. “We’ll speak our vows in five days hence.”

“I haven’t agreed!” Elissa cried.

Damian’s eyes narrowed. “Don’t try my temper, my lady. I said we’ll marry and so we shall. I warn you, it would be unwise to refuse. I’m sure you know what I mean.”

“Must you hold my mother and sister over my head like a sledgehammer that will crush me if I donna do as you wish?”

“If I have to. Would you bring a bastard child into the world?”

Elissa gave a disgusted snort. “How many times must I tell you that I donna carry your bairn?”

“Sooner or later it will happen. I cannot believe you’d prefer to become my mistress. Wouldn’t you rather bring legitimate children into the world?”

“This talk of children is senseless, unless you’re referring to your children with Kimbra.”

“This is the last time I’m going to say this, Elissa. I have never bedded Kimbra. She’s an accomplished liar and troublemaker.”

“What happens when you tire of me?” Elissa asked. “The Demon Knight’s reputation for using women and abandoning them is legend.”

Grasping her shoulders, he brought her against him. “Don’t believe everything you hear,” he said in a low, seductive whisper.

His mouth hovered just inches from hers. She closed her eyes as his full lips slowly descended. She thought she was prepared for his kiss, but she wasn’t. Nothing could have prepared her for the powerful emotion that surged through her the moment their lips connected. His potent kiss snatched the breath from her lungs. His mouth moved slowly over hers, his tongue gliding wetly over her lips, then thrusting inside as he devoured the taste and scent of her. Her knees weakened; her mouth molded to his as her body melted against his heat and hardness.

Sweet surrender beckoned…until she remembered that Damian had given her no choice. He had simply assumed they would marry without allowing her the courtesy of accepting or refusing. He had arranged their marriage without her knowledge or approval.

Damian abruptly broke off the kiss and she clung to him for support. Why was her head spinning? Why was Damian smiling at her with that smug look on his face? Why did her heart pound and her body burn?

“Here comes your mother,” Damian said, moving slightly away from Elissa as Marianne approached. He searched Elissa’s face. “Are you all right? You look dazed.”

“I’m ready to return to the keep, my lord,” Marianne said, her gaze shifting from Damian to Elissa. “Am I interrupting something?”

“I will explain later,” Damian said. He turned to the priest. “We will expect you in five days, Father. Kindly inform your flock that they are invited to the keep to celebrate my marriage to Elissa. I’ve already spoken to Dermot about hiring musicians. We will have music and dancing and feasting. ’Tisn’t every day the Maiden of Misterly takes a husband.”

“Father Hugh told me of your plans, my lord,” Lady Marianne informed Damian.

“Do you approve, my lady?”

Marianne slid a glance at Elissa before answering. “I want what’s best for my daughter and Misterly. I will pray for a happy union.”

“’Tis what I want as well, my lady.”

Damian handed Lady Marianne into the cart, then turned to help Elissa, but she climbed onto the seat and took up the reins before Damian could touch her. She snapped the reins and the cart rattled forward.

“Are you upset with Lord Damian’s arrangements, daughter?” Marianne asked when Elissa remained quiet.

“He should have asked my approval.”

“He may have gone about it the wrong way but I know you no longer wish to wed Tavis.” Marianne’s fine brow furrowed. “I would have objected had I thought the marriage unwise. There are advantages to such a match.”

“Advantages? Have you considered the consequences once the Hanover learns that Damian refused to wed Lady Kimbra?”

“I have, but I think Lord Damian is capable of standing up to the king. If you’re worried, ask Nan to consult her voices.”

“I donna trust Nan’s voices, Mama, and neither should you. She’s old and fanciful; she doesna know what she’s talking about most of the time.”

Marianne sent her a sharp look. “Has Nan said something to upset you?”

She shrugged. “No more than usual. Donna let it bother you. Damian and I will settle this ourselves.”

Marianne sighed. “You’re right, daughter. This is between you and Damian. I’m too weary from my outing to give the matter proper attention.”

The cart clattered to a halt in the courtyard. Damian rode up beside them and dismounted. But before he could lift Marianne from the cart, Sir Brody appeared and shoved Damian aside.

“Allow me to carry Lady Marianne to her chamber, my lord.”

“As you will,” Damian replied, giving way to the knight’s bulky form.

“Your mother has a champion in Sir Brody,” Damian observed.

“They do seem to enjoy one another’s company.”

“As do Sir Richard and Maggie.”

Elissa’s head shot up. “Has Sir Richard dishonored her? I willna stand for it.”

“I wouldn’t be surprised to see a wedding besides our own very soon. Mayhap two.”

“Are you planning to force others in my family to wed against their will?”

“I do not need to use force.”

“Not even on me?” Elissa challenged.

He touched her face, his gaze intent upon her mouth. For a moment she feared he would kiss her despite the fact that they were being watched, but he didn’t. He merely smiled in that arrogant way of his that raised her hackles, and escorted her into the keep.

“We’re just in time,” Damian said. “The table is being set for the evening repast. I want you to sit beside me. No more hiding in your chamber.”

Elissa didn’t argue when Damian escorted her to the dais and seated her beside him. He would have his way no matter how loud or long she protested.

Elissa had just helped herself from a platter when Nan approached the dais. “Might I speak with ye a moment, yer lordship?”

“Of course, Nan. Is something wrong?”

“Nay. ’Tis about the two wounded Gordons that were carried from the battlefield with yer own wounded. They have recovered from their injuries. What are yer plans for them?”

“I’d almost forgotten,” Damian mused. “Invite them to the hall to share our food.”

Elissa gasped. “Are you sure, Damian?”

“Very sure. I want to end hostilities with the Gordons once and for all. Do as I say, Nan.”

Nan scooted away and returned a short time later accompanied by two men still bearing disfigurements from the bloody battle they’d fought. One had a newly healed scar that ran from chin to the outer edge of his eyebrow and the other wore a bandage on his right arm. Wrapped in the Gordon plaid, they stood stiffly before Damian.

“What are your names?” Damian inquired.

The man with the scarred face came to attention. “I am Hugo Gordon.”

“And I am Archie Gordon,” the second man declared.

“Find a place at the table,” Damian bade them.

“Ye want us to break bread with ye?” Hugo asked in disbelief.

“Aye. We need not be enemies.”

“Yer an English butcher, sent by the Hanover to wreak havoc upon our people and lands,” Hugo spat.

“I want peace to reign at Misterly. Will you accept my hospitality?”

The two men exchanged uncertain glances. “Tell us our fate first,” Archie said. “Is this to be our last meal?”

Damian chuckled. “You are free to go back to your homes. You may fill your bellies at my board or leave hungry, ’tis your choice.”

“We’re free to leave?” Hugo gasped, clearly shocked.

“Have I not just said so? I have but one request, however, before you leave Misterly.”

“Name it,” Archie said.

“I want you to deliver a message to the Gordon chieftain.”

“A message? Verra well,” Hugo agreed. “What is it?”

“Tell your chieftain that he is invited to attend a wedding celebration. In five days, The Maiden of Misterly and Lord Clarendon will wed in the great hall at the hour of noon.”

A hush fell over the hall, followed by the clamoring of voices, some raised in disapproval and others openly accepting of Damian’s effort to achieve lasting peace for Misterly. Elissa’s own feelings were hard to define. She knew Damian’s announcement of their marriage had come as a surprise to those present. No one had expected Damian to defy the king openly, and everyone was aware of the consequences of such a rash act. He could lose Misterly.

Furthermore, inviting Tavis Gordon to the wedding was asking for trouble. The man was a bomb waiting to explode. Did Damian think he could promote peace by inviting Tavis to Misterly? Was he willing to overlook the fact that Tavis was an outlaw in order to form a tenuous friendship?

Elissa suddenly became aware that Hugo was staring at her. “Is it true, my lady?” he asked. “Will ye wed the Demon Knight? I thought ye were promised to the Gordon.”

“Elissa is to be my bride,” Damian insisted, forestalling Elissa’s answer. “Will you carry my message to your chieftain?”

Hugo nodded jerkily. “Aye, but ’tis a marriage made in hell. The lass bears no love for Englishmen.”

Elissa wanted to say there would be no marriage, but the words stuck in her throat. Damian would have his way.

She would become the Demon Knight’s wife whether she wished it or not.

Elissa stood at the window, gazing at the stars twinkling overhead. How she wished she were still that small child who believed that wishing upon a star would grant everything she desired. If wishes came true, her beloved father and brothers would be alive and Misterly would still belong to the Frasers. But wishing didn’t bring miracles.

In five days she would become the Demon Knight’s bride, a thought as frightening as it was thrilling. Damian was a unique man, multilayered and complex. Men obeyed him without question and women adored him. He was his own man—courageous enough to defy his king and strong enough to hold what was his.

Damian wanted her, but he didn’t love her. He believed that emotional love was a weakness. There was no denying, however, that he excelled at lovemaking, for it took little effort on his part to make her want him.

Elissa frowned as she considered her feelings for Damian. She no longer hated him. She had realized that when she couldn’t bring herself to kill him to appease Tavis. She’d allowed Damian to make love to her even though she knew she was betraying her clansmen. She cared for him—nay, she loved him—and the guilt was nearly killing her.

Unable to bear her dark thoughts any longer, Elissa turned from the window and pulled the counterpane from the bed. A knock on the door diverted her. She greeted Maggie warmly and invited her to sit down.

“I canna stay, Elissa. I’m spending the night with my family in the village,” Maggie said. “Is there anything ye need before I leave?”

“Thank you, but there is naught I need. Is Lora abed?”

“She’s sleeping like a babe,” Maggie said. “Yer mother, too.”

Maggie fussed with the counterpane, looking as if she wanted to say something but didn’t know where to begin. Finally Elissa asked, “Is there something you’d like to tell me, Maggie?”

Maggie flushed and wrung her hands. “I donna know how to begin.”

Elissa grasped her hands. “Start at the beginning. I know you and Sir Richard have become close. Is that what this is about?”

“I dinna think anyone noticed,” Maggie murmured.

Elissa grinned. “We couldna help but notice.”

“Sir Richard is a handsome man…for an Englishman,” Maggie added hastily.

“Do you love him?”

Maggie dropped her gaze. “Aye. Sir Richard promised to marry me.”

“Do you believe him?”

Her head shot up. “Is there a reason I shouldna?”

“Some men will promise anything to lure a woman into his bed.”

“What did Lord Damian promise
ye
when he bedded ye?” Maggie returned sharply. Elissa’s stricken expression must have shamed Maggie, for she appeared horrified by the words that had just tumbled from her mouth. “Oh, Elissa, forgive me. I know ye had little choice in the matter. But yer going to wed his lordship and that makes everything all right.”

Elissa took a deep breath. “I forgive you.”

Elissa couldn’t bring herself to ask if Maggie had given herself to Sir Richard, for she hadn’t the right. “I canna tell you whom to love, Maggie. I just want you to be happy.”

Maggie squeezed her hand. “Ye deserve all the best, Elissa. I hope Lord Damian makes ye happy. Do ye love him?”

A long pause. “I think so. But I donna know if I could live with the guilt. He’s not the husband my father wanted for me.”

“Yer father is dead,” Maggie said softly. “Tavis Gordon broke the faith when he torched the village. Lord Damian helped us, even your father would agree were he alive. His lordship has provided food and lodging to those in need. He loves Misterly, and for that he has gained our respect. He sent Lady Kimbra away, which pleased everyone. Ye need not fear that our kinsmen willna accept yer marriage to Lord Damian.”

Elissa searched Maggie’s face. “Are you sure?”

“Aye. I wouldna lie to ye.”

“Damian doesna love me,” Elissa said on a sigh.

“Are ye sure?”

“I…asked him.”

Maggie sent her a pitying look. “I’m sorry, Elissa. I thought, nay, I truly believed his lordship cared for ye. He’s marrying ye, is he not?”

“Our marriage is convenient to him. He believes our union will strengthen Misterly.”

“Lord Damian may surprise ye,” Maggie ventured. “I must leave. Sir Richard is waiting below to escort me to the village.”

There was nothing more Elissa could say. Maggie trusted Sir Richard, and Elissa prayed she didn’t love in vain, for Elissa knew well the feeling. Marrying an Englishman wasn’t what Elissa had dreamed of, but she was willing to make the sacrifice if it brought peace to Misterly.

The keep was a beehive of activity during the days preceding Elissa’s wedding day. Even the tapestries had been taken down and cleaned. Food was being prepared in enormous amounts, from main dishes to pastries. Elissa had no idea Winifred was so talented in culinary arts.

Elissa saw little of Damian before the wedding. For reasons of his own, Damian had not come to her in the night or tried to seduce her, and Elissa wasn’t sure whether she was relieved or disappointed.

Damian’s invitation to Tavis had thus far gone unanswered and Elissa feared the outcome should Tavis decide to attend. It wasn’t difficult to imagine the havoc he could wreak. Not for the first time, she wished Damian hadn’t been so bold, for no good could come of it.

The day before the wedding, Elissa was summoned to her mother’s chambers. She stopped just inside the door, surprised to find the room crowded with chattering women.

“Come in, my dear,” Marianne invited.

“What’s this all about, Mama?”

“I wanted you to have proper wedding attire so I invited a few of our kinswomen to help fit my own wedding gown to your more voluptuous figure.”

Elissa spied the lovely pale blue gown spread out on Marianne’s bed and gasped in delight. “Are you sure? ’Tis beautiful,” she said, fingering the fine silk.

“Verra sure. Put it on so we can see how it fits.”

For the next two hours Elissa stood in the center of the chamber while the best seamstresses of the group altered the gown to her form. There was sufficient material in the seams and hem to make the bust slightly larger and drop the hemline, but the rest needed little or no adjustment.

The sleeves were long and fitted, the waist tightly cinched, and the neckline was modest while showing an enticing hint of cleavage. Shimmering blue silk flowed over her trim hips to the tips of her satin shoes. The final touch was a short veil, held in place by a jeweled cap.

“You look lovely,” Marianne sighed. “The color is perfect with your red hair and fair complexion.”

The effusive compliments that followed Marianne’s words made Elissa actually feel like the cherished bride of a man who loved her.

The rest of the day passed with uncommon haste. Elissa did not see Damian until the evening meal. She took her place beside him at the table and toyed with the food on her plate. Suddenly she felt Damian looking at her and she returned his gaze.

“Your appetite seems lacking tonight, my lady,” he said wryly, his half-smile lavish with charm. “Are you worried about the ceremony tomorrow?”

She flushed but did not look way. “We’ve hardly spoken these past days, I’d hoped you’d changed your mind.”

Damian chuckled. “Did you miss my attention? You’ll have all of me you wish after tomorrow.”

“I wish none of you.”

He stroked her cheek with the back of his hand. “I doubt that. I know for a fact that one part of you wants one part of me.”

A heated blush crept up Elissa’s neck as she adroitly changed the subject. “Have you heard from Tavis Gordon?”

“Not yet.”

Elissa tilted her head thoughtfully. “I donna think he will come to our wedding.”

“Oh, he’ll come,” Damian said with conviction.

“Do you think he’ll cause trouble?”

“That remains to be seen. We’re prepared for him if he does show up.”

“I hope he stays away. He’s dangerous.”

Damian searched her face. “Are you worried about me, sweeting?”

“Not in the least,” Elissa returned. “Are you certain this marriage is wise? What if you fall in love with another woman after we’ve wed? I donna want to stand in the way of your happiness.”

“I told you how I feel about love. Nay, Elissa, we’ll deal well enough with one another if you can learn to put the past behind you.”

“And if I canna?”

He leaned close. “Then ’tis your loss, my lady. Think about it. Are you finished eating?”

“Aye.”

He rose and offered his hand. “I’ll escort you to your chamber.”

Elissa placed her hand in his and rose unsteadily to her feet. She saw Dermot beckoning to her and pulled her hand from Damian’s. “My kinsman wants a word with me, Damian.” Damian released her hand and stepped away so she could converse with her kinsman in private.

“His Lordship asked me to take the place of yer father,” Dermot said when he reached her. “I’m to escort ye from yer chamber to the hall tomorrow.”

“’Tis your right as the oldest living Fraser,” Elissa acknowledged. “You do me honor.”

“We all want ye to be happy, lass.”

“Oh, she will,” Damian said, his voice exuding confidence.

“Have our clansmen accepted my marriage to Lord Damian?” Elissa asked.

“Aye,” Dermot said without hesitation. “No one wants ye to wed the Gordon chieftain. He betrayed our trust.”

Elissa’s voice was low and fraught with sadness. “As I will betray my father’s trust when I wed Damian.”

“Enough!” Damian said. Then more gently, “’Tis time you retired, my lady.”

Elissa allowed Damian to escort her from the hall. When they reached her chamber, she feared he would follow her inside, but he stopped just short of entering.

“I don’t want to wait until we’re wed, but I will,” he murmured as he brought her into his arms. “I don’t understand my need for you. ’Tis like a sickness for which there is no cure.” He frowned. “’Tis not good for a man to be so afflicted.”

“Lust isna a reason for two people to wed,” Elissa observed. “Once the attraction fades, there is naught left.”

“I doubt that will happen with us,” Damian replied as he lifted her chin with his forefinger. “Kiss me, Elissa. ’Tis been too long.”

Elissa was tempted. She missed Damian’s arms around her, his lips on hers, the thrill of his lovemaking. She turned her face away.

“Elissa, look at me.” Reluctantly, she returned her gaze to his.

“Tell me. Do you still believe Kimbra is carrying my child?”

“I…nay. I’ve come to realize that Kimbra is a vicious witch who wanted to hurt me.”

“Thank God,” Damian breathed. “I don’t want Kimbra. I never did. She didn’t care whom she hurt so long as it benefitted her own selfish needs. Half the women in London are like her.”

“At least we agree on something,” Elissa muttered.

Damian’s silver eyes held a mischievous glint. “There is more than one thing we agree upon. We want one another.”

“Good night, Damian,” Elissa said, torn by feelings she shouldn’t be having.

“Kiss me good night, Elissa,” he repeated. “I won’t leave until you do.”

Elissa sighed and lifted her face, determined to endure his sensual assault calmly. The moment his lips touched hers, however, her resolve melted like a candle exposed to flame. His kiss deepened. She tasted his need and leaned into him as his tongue nudged her mouth open for a leisurely exploration.

Damian groaned and pulled her closer. She was trembling like a leaf in the autumn wind as he scooped her into his arms and carried her into her chamber, slamming the door behind him. The sound returned Elissa’s wits.

“Damian, nay! You said you’d wait.”

Elissa sensed the conflicting emotions battering Damian as he fought his conscience. Though she wanted him, she refused to succumb to her own unquenchable need. She still battled with her guilt for wanting an Englishman.

“Do you really want to wait?” Damian asked hoarsely.

“You gave your word. ’Tis a test of whether or not I can trust you in our future dealings.”

Damian let her slide down the length of his hard body until her feet touched the floor. “You win, Elissa, but you won’t always have your way. I choose to submit to your wishes this time, but once we are wed that could change. Sleep well, my lady. Pleasant dreams.”

Damian left the chamber and rested his head against the closed door. He was shaking from head to toe. It had nearly cost him his sanity to leave Elissa untouched. He started violently when Nan materialized from the deep shadows.

“Are ye well, me lord?”

Startled, Damian pushed away from the door. “Aye, why do you ask?”

“Ye look shaken.”

“Perhaps I am,” Damian admitted. “Elissa would drive a saint insane.”

“And ye are no saint, are ye, yer lordship?”

“Hardly,” Damian chuckled. “I’m glad for this chance to talk with you, Nan. I can’t get out of my mind what you said about Elissa. Does she truly carry my child? She denies it emphatically.”

“One denies what one refuses to believe,” Nan replied cryptically. “Mayhap Elissa doesna wish to wed a man who doesna love her. Mayhap she wants ye to wed her for herself, not because she carries yer bairn.”

“I want to wed Elissa for many reasons,” Damian said, defending himself. Suddenly he grinned. “If she doesn’t carry my child now, she soon will.”

Nan nodded her head in agreement; then her expression abruptly turned to one of concern. “I sought ye out tonight to warn ye, me lord.”

Damian became instantly alert. “Is Elissa in danger?”

“Mayhap. My ‘voices’ say that soon Elissa will face an unknown peril. She must take care. Donna trust the Gordon chieftain, his heart is black with vengeance. He will come for the wedding, but I advise ye to turn him away.”

Damain considered Nan’s words. “I can’t do that, Nan. I invited him to the wedding and can’t turn him away.”

“Then beware, yer lordship.”

She slipped away into the shadows. Alarmed, Damian called her back. “Wait! Tell me more.”

She paused and glanced at him over her shoulder, her face obscured by darkness. “My ‘voices’ are not always as enlightening as I would like them to be, and they donna always come in time to prevent disaster. Good night, Lord Damian.”