Connie Mason (22 page)

“I will escort you, my lady,” Captain Harding said.

“Thank you, Captain. You are kind.”

“Not a bit, my lady. The king has dealt harshly with you when there was no need. In my opinion, you have done him no harm. Losing your husband had to have been distressing for you, and your stay in the Tower completely demoralizing, but at least you have your life.”

“Aye,” Elissa agreed softly.
And the life of my bairn,
she thought, placing a hand over her stomach as she turned away.

Elissa’s chamber was on the second floor. Harding wished her good night and locked the door behind her. She walked to the window, staring at the ground through the pelting rain. Thoughtfully she contemplated the thick oak tree that grew beside the building, and the leafless branches lashing the window. Only a fool would attempt such a climb. She had another life to protect besides her own, and anything that dangerous wasn’t worth the risk.

Sighing despondently, she closed the shutters and retrieved her nightgown from her satchel. She undressed quickly and pulled it over her head, settling it around her hips. Then she blew out the lamp and crawled into bed, pulling the quilt up to her chin. She hadn’t enjoyed such luxury in weeks. A full stomach, a comfortable bed; it was pure bliss. The only thing missing was Damian to keep her warm.

Elissa slept, but apparently not deeply enough, for she heard a noise and felt a rush of cold air. She tried to dismiss it as imagination until she felt something brush across her cheek. Still groggy from sleep, she tried to sweep it away, startled when her hand came into contact with warm skin stretched over bone. A scream gathered in her throat. A hard hand covered her mouth and the sound died for lack of air.

“Quiet,” a voice close to her ear warned. “I’ll remove my hand if you promise not to scream.” Elissa nodded and the hand slid away.

“Damian!” Elissa whispered on a shaky breath. His face was obscured by shadows, except for his eyes, which gleamed like silver coins in the darkness. The last vestiges of sleep fell away. “What are you doing here? Why aren’t you with your bride-to-be?”

Damian perched on the edge of the bed and gently caressed her cheek. His touch, the tenseness of his body, everything about him conveyed sadness and pain.

“I followed you here,” he whispered. “It wasn’t difficult. I arrived shortly after you did and sat in a dark corner of the common room while you and Captain Harding dined. When you left to come up to your room, I was faced with a dilemma. I had no idea which room was yours.” He smiled. “The innkeeper was very accommodating when I greased his palm with a coin.

“I still wasn’t sure how I’d get inside your room so I went outside to study the lay of the building. Then I saw you standing at the window. The tree was a bonus I hadn’t expected.”

“You climbed the tree?”

“Aye. If the tree hadn’t been handy, I would have found another way. I had to explain so you wouldn’t hate me.”

“Hate is too mild a word. You abandoned me. Wealth and possessions mean more to you than my love. Go away, I donna need you.”

“Nay, you’re going to listen to me. If I hadn’t agreed to wed Kimbra, you would have been put to death. I pleaded for your life but the king refused to listen. He even forbade me to visit you in the Tower. I was frantic to see you.

“When the king promised to spare your life if I wedded Kimbra, I had no choice but to agree. Even if I never saw you again, you’d still have your life. And resourceful as you are, I knew the convent wouldn’t hold you for long.”

Elissa listened to Damian’s words with open skepticism. She wanted desperately to believe him, and his explanation did make sense, but the pain of his rejection was difficult to dispel.

“Why should I trust you?” she asked softly.

“Because I’m telling the truth. Would I come all this way to lie? I didn’t want you to believe I had abandoned you. I would have sacrificed everything for you. Someday, somehow, we
will
be together again.”

She believed him. Blessed Mother, she believed him. She didn’t have to see his face to know he spoke from the heart. But it was too late for them. Their marriage and their life together had been severed as neatly as if a knife had split them apart.

Needing desperately to touch him, she rested her hand on his chest. The heat of him flowed into her palm and rushed to her pounding heart. He reacted spontaneously. Groaning, he reached for her, fitting her against him. Then he kissed her with a tenderness that rocked her. He tasted of rain and musk and desperation.

The threat of permanent separation gave a frantic edge to their clandestine tryst. Drunk with the taste of her lips, Damian kissed her again and again, binding them together from hips to chest. If this was the last time they would love, Damian wanted to savor it. Aware, however, that being found with Elissa could prove disastrous for both of them, he reluctantly broke off the kiss.

“I want to love you, sweeting. Give me this memory to take with me when we part.”

“Aye, Damian, I want that, too. I love you so much. No matter where you are or where I am, we will still be one in mind and soul.”

Expressing emotion was difficult for Damian, especially when he was mired in hopelessness, surrounded by it, consumed in it. But he put every part of himself, heart, body, and soul, into his kiss. She tasted like ecstasy and felt like bliss. When her hands tugged at his clothing, he quickly shed them, breaking contact with her lips only when he bent to remove his boots and trousers.

“I’ve missed you,” Damian whispered as he wrapped his arms tightly about her.

His hands slid over her bottom, gripping the rounded flesh beneath her nightdress, fitting her against him, his erection pressing hard against her lower belly. Dipping his head, he took one turgid nipple into his mouth, then the other, suckling each in turn, causing her hips to jerk against his in wanton abandon.

Murmuring hotly against her breast, he spread her thighs and slipped a finger inside her. She arched against the pressure, driving his finger deeper. His mouth descended slowly, kissing a trail of fire from her breasts to her woman’s cleft, nibbling gently on the peak hidden in the damp cluster of curls between her legs. Propelled by the earthy taste and scent of her, his tongue circled slowly around the sensitive nub, while his finger flexed deeper inside her.

Her fingers clutched frantically at the back of his neck. “Please. Now, Damian. I want you now.”

“Yes, now,” Damian muttered, as his tongue found her heated center and dipped inside. He lashed and taunted mercilessly, anchoring her hips as she bucked against him. He continued his loving torment until he felt her stiffen and shatter in his arms.

Once her tremors stopped, he rolled away and pulled her over him, easing her legs on either side of his hips. He rubbed his erection against her center, her damp heat anointing him with her essence. He groaned his approval when Elissa reached between them and guided him into place. He entered her slowly, at the same time raising his head to nibble at her swaying breasts. Sweat beaded his forehead as she pressed down on him, rising and plunging with a rhythm that set them both afire. He let her lead the way until he felt her sheath contract around him and she began to tremble, then he indulged his own raging need. Gripping her buttocks in his hands, he surged wetly into her one last time, pouring his passion inside her.

Her breath fragmented, Elissa rested her head against his shoulder and caressed his face with gentle fingertips. When Damian finally found the strength, he lifted her away and settled her into the curve of his body.

“I don’t want to leave you, sweeting.”

“I wish we could stay like this forever,” she said on a shaky sigh. “Do you think we’ll ever be together again?”

“If there is a God, we will.”

Elissa remained silent for a long time. When she spoke, he heard the note of anxiety and cursed Kimbra for doing this to them.

“What about Mother and Lora? They won’t be safe in your household with Kimbra as your wife.”

“Trust me to keep them safe. I won’t let Kimbra rule my household no matter how hard she tries. Your family will have the choice of remaining at Misterly or joining you at the convent.”

A tense silence followed his words. “Is something wrong, Elissa?”

“Everything is wrong. I canna bear the thought of you making love to Kimbra. What we have together is special and not to be shared with anyone else.”

“On those rare occasions I’m forced to do my duty, it will not even come close to what I feel when I make love to you.” His eyes narrowed thoughtfully. “Perhaps I’ll not bed her at all.”

“Oh, Damian, I canna ask that of you. Donna make me that promise.”

“Elissa, I…”

She touched his lips. “Nay. Make love to me again. ’Tis all I ask of you.”

They came together again; their bittersweet passion was so intense, neither spoke for a long time afterward. When fingers of light poked through an overcast sky the color of wood smoke, Damian kissed Elissa one last time and reached for his clothes.

He dressed quickly in the predawn light, then sat down on the edge of the bed and kissed her tears away. “Don’t cry, love. Promise you’ll take care of yourself until we can be together again. If…when you leave the convent, and I’m sure you will, try to let me know where you’ll be so I can find you.”

“There is only one place I can go,” Elissa said. “To my cousin Christy Macdonald at Glenmoor. She’s wed to an Englishman, but they’ve been estranged since their marriage many years ago. If you hear that I left the convent, look for me at Glenmoor.”

“’Tis time,” Damian said regretfully.

Elissa rose and pulled on her nightdress. “Be careful.” She followed him to the window. An icy blast buffeted her as he swung open the shutters and placed a leg over the sill. He gave her another quick kiss, then disappeared. Elissa watched with trepidation as he lunged for the tree, grabbed onto a branch, and scampered down the trunk. When he reached the ground, he glanced up and blew her a kiss. Then he was gone.

Dashing away her tears, Elissa closed the shutters and returned to bed. Damian’s scent still clung to the bedclothes; she shut her eyes and imagined he was still beside her, comforted by his lingering aroma and surrounded by his love. She must have dozed, for when she opened her eyes, fingers of weak sunlight were filtering through the window.

Elissa left the bed and washed the traces of Damian from her body. She had just finished dressing when Captain Harding arrived to unlock the door and escort her to the common room to break her fast.

Harding sat opposite her, his brow furrowed with concern as he searched her face. “Did you sleep poorly? You look tired.”

“I’m fine, Captain, thank you. That looks good,” she said as a serving maid placed a plate of eggs, kidneys, and fried potatoes in front of her.

“Take your time,” Harding advised. “The food here is good, you should take advantage of it while you can.”

During the exhausting days that followed, Elissa had many occasions to be grateful for Captain Harding’s kindness. Whenever he became aware of her exhaustion, he called a halt to allow her to rest. When the biting wind or chilling rain was at its worst, he found them shelter, be it an inn, a private home, a simple shepherd’s shack, or a tent hastily erected for her comfort. She did her best to conceal her bouts of morning nausea, but she knew Captain Harding had been aware of those times her stomach rebelled against food.

One day toward the end of their journey, Captain Harding fell in beside Elissa. “I’ve noticed your recurring illness upon arising each morning,” he ventured. “Please forgive me for being presumptuous, but are you increasing, Lady Elissa?”

Elissa flushed but did not evade the question. “You’re assumption is correct, Captain,” Elissa said softly.

“Are you carrying your former husband’s child?”

Elissa stiffened with indignation. “Are you suggesting I betrayed my husband?”

Harding immediately sought to make amends. “Forgive me. I would never accuse you of infidelity. The king was wrong to declare your marriage illegal. Please accept my apology for being a part of your suffering. I was but following orders. I wish I could help.”

“You are a good man, Captain. You’ve helped by making this journey as painless as possible.”

He raised her hand to his lips and kissed it. “You are a true lady.”

Two days later they arrived at St. Mary by the Sea Convent, a stately structure poised on a cliff above a roiling ocean. The stone wall surrounding the imposing structure was formidable, but Elissa considered it merely a stepping stone to freedom.

Damian sat in his rented room, staring gloomily at the rain lashing against the window. Tomorrow was his wedding day. How could he wed Kimbra when Elissa was still so very much a part of him? She occupied his heart, his mind, and his soul. He vividly recalled the scent of her, the look of her, every small gesture she’d made. He’d have told the king and Kimbra to go to hell if he could have been certain Elissa wouldn’t have been punished for his disobedience.

Bloody hell. Was there no justice in the world?

The resounding knock at his door barely registered until the pounding became too loud and persistent to ignore. Spitting out an oath, he opened it, stunned to see Jem, one of the men-at-arms he’d left behind at Misterly.

“Jem! Good God, man, come in. How did you find me? What happened to bring you to London?”

“I’ve been searching for you since I arrived yesterday,” Jem said. “Luck brought me to the taproom below, where I ran into the men who accompanied you to London. They directed me here. There’s trouble at Misterly, my lord.

“Tavis Gordon and his Highland outlaws stormed the keep. They broke through our defenses and gained control. Sir Richard sent me to London to find you when he realized we couldn’t hold the fortress against Gordon’s superior forces. We were outnumbered three to one. I barely escaped with my life.”

His expression grim, Damian swung his cloak over his shoulders and headed out the door. “Tell the men in the taproom what you’ve just told me,” Damian called over his shoulder. “Tell them to fetch the horses and be ready to leave London when I return.”

Damian stormed into the palace and demanded an immediate audience with the king. He must have sounded desperate, for he was kept waiting but a moment before Lord Pelham appeared.

“Lord Clarendon, what is it now? His Majesty isn’t to be bothered unless it’s important.”

“My business is most urgent, my lord,” Damian said. “I just received word that Misterly has fallen to Tavis Gordon. I must return immediately.”

“But your wedding…”

“The hell with my wedding! What is more important, preserving Misterly for the Crown, or marrying a woman I can scarcely abide?”

“We can’t spare men to aid you right now. There’s trouble on the Welsh border and the army has been sent to quell the uprising. Furthermore, France is threatening war again. We cannot spare men to send to Scotland.”

“I have no need of the army. I can regain control of Misterly without outside help if I leave immediately.”

“Hmmm. I must confer with His Majesty and Parliament first.”

“I can’t wait for Parliament to convene. You and His Majesty must decide now.”

“Wait here while I consult with His Majesty.”

Lord Pelham exited through a door leading to the king’s private bedchamber. He returned a few minutes later with King George in tow.

“What is so important that you must disturb our nap?” the king whined.

Damian explained again why he must leave immediately for Misterly.

King George retreated into a thoughtful silence. After a lengthy pause, he said, “We cannot afford to lose Misterly to rebel forces, but Lord Pelham has informed me that we do not have the manpower to wage another war in Scotland.”

“I don’t need your soldiers,” Damian argued. “What I do need is to leave London now, today.”

“Impossible. Tomorrow is your wedding day.”

“Do you want Gordon to gain control of Misterly and rally other Highlanders to his cause?”

“Nay. We cannot allow that to happen. Misterly is important to us. Can you guarantee success without our help?”

“Have I ever let you down, Sire? I have but one request.”

“You want a boon?”

“Aye, I suppose you could call it that.”

“What is it? More land? A more prestigious title?”

“Nay, nothing like that. All I ask is that you find another husband for Lady Kimbra.”

“Lady Kimbra is an heiress,” Lord Pelham reminded him.

“I know, but she is not the woman I want. I beg of you to reinstate my marriage to Elissa Fraser. ’Tis the only reward I ask for my loyalty.”

“The Fraser woman is a Jacobite sympathizer,” the king said.

“She is a woman whose father and brothers were butchered at Culloden. ’Tis true she doesn’t like Englishmen, but can you blame her? As my wife, she will pose no threat to the Crown. This I promise you.”

A suspenseful silence ensued as the king mulled over Damian’s proposal.

“What say you, Lord Pelham?” the king asked.

“As you well know, Your Majesty, Misterly is important to us. Lord Clarendon is a man we can trust. If he wants the Scottish lass, I say, let him have her.”

“Very well, so it shall be. Have two writs prepared, Lord Pelham—one reinstating the marriage of Lord Clarendon and Elissa Fraser, and another authorizing the release of the lady from the convent. But hear this, Clarendon: if you fail, all is lost to you.” He waved Damian off. “You may return for the documents in one hour.”

“I understand, Your Majesty,” Damian said, barely containing his elation, “and I will send word of my success.”

Damian bowed himself out of the Privy Chamber with undue haste. As luck would have it, he encountered Lady Kimbra in the hallway.

“Damian! How fortunate that I’ve run into you. You’ve been neglecting me.” She tucked her arm beneath his. “Tomorrow can’t come soon enough for me.”

Damian removed her arm and backed away. “We are no longer betrothed, Kimbra. The king validated my marriage to Elissa.”

Kimbra exploded in fury. “What! You’re lying. His Majesty wouldn’t do such a thing to me. Nay, I refuse to believe it.”

“’Tis true. Ask His Majesty if you don’t believe me. Goodbye, Lady Kimbra. I wish you long life and happiness.”

“Damn you, Clarendon! May you rot in hell. How dare you put me in this position! Court gossip will ruin me. I won’t be able to show my face.”

She was still shrieking as Damian walked away.

Two hours later, the documents tucked away in his pocket, Damian rode north from London through the pounding rain.

Elissa had been at the convent nearly a fortnight before she figured out a way to leave without the Reverend Mother’s knowledge. Elissa didn’t blame the Reverend Mother for adhering to the king’s wishes where she was concerned, for the convent owed its very existence to the Hanover.

It didn’t take Elissa long to learn that an old man named Freddie was the only male allowed inside the convent walls, though he never ventured inside the convent itself. If Freddie had a last name, no one seemed to know it. He slept above the stables, maintained the grounds, and drove the wagon to a nearby farm once a week for fresh milk and eggs. The gatekeeper, Sister Elizabeth, opened the gate for him early each Monday morning, and Elissa used that knowledge to plan her escape.

On the following Monday, Elissa awakened early, donned her warmest clothes, and slipped away to the stables before morning Mass. She hid behind a bale of hay until Freddie arrived to hitch the horse to the wagon for his trip to town. She watched with bated breath as he went into the tack room for the harness. Once he was inside, she slammed the door shut and flung home the bolt.

“Sorry, Freddie,” she called through the door. “I need the wagon more than you do.”

“Is that you, Lady Elissa?” Freddie asked in a muffled voice.

“Aye, Freddie,” Elissa said, reaching for Freddie’s cloak and hat hanging on a nearby hook. “Tell the Mother Superior I’m sorry.”

“Why don’t you tell the Mother Superior yourself?” The feminine voice came from behind her and Elissa whirled, dismayed to find the Mother Superior standing behind her.

“Mother Superior! How did you know?”

“I didn’t. I saw you leave the building and decided to follow. I suspected you’d attempt something like this one day.” Her face softened. “Don’t let me stop you.”

Elissa went very still. “I donna understand.”

“I don’t suppose you do. England’s king is not God. He may threaten, but in the end ’tis God’s word we follow. I have prayed over your situation and searched my heart for an answer. You are not meant to take the veil.” She peered closely at Elissa, her kindly eyes dropping to Elissa’s stomach. “Is there something you wish to tell me, child?”

Elissa blanched. “How did you know that I’m carrying a bairn?”

“I merely suspected but was not sure. I also suspect God has something special in mind for you. Go with my blessing, my child. You need not fear the English monarch, for he will never be told that you no longer reside with us.”

“How can I ever thank you?”

“By raising your child to love God,” Mother Superior replied. “Now, quickly, pull on Freddie’s cloak and hat and hunch your shoulders when you ride through the gate. I promise your absence will never be mentioned nor discussed by anyone dwelling within these walls.”

Unable to believe her good fortune, Elissa quickly finished hitching the horse to the wagon, donned her disguise, and climbed onto the driver’s bench. “I’ll make sure the wagon is returned as soon as possible. I know how much you depend on it.”

“Thank you,” the Mother Superior said. “Go now, child, Sister Elizabeth is waiting to open the gate. May God protect you.”

Elissa slapped the reins against the horse’s rump and the animal plodded off. Once out of sight of the convent, she set a course for Misterly.

Darkness had descended when Elissa spied Misterly through a snowy mist that swirled down from a cloud-laden sky. Shivering, she pulled Freddie’s woolen cloak closer about her, anxious now to see her mother and sister and bask before a warm fire while dining on Winifred’s fine cooking.

Squinting through a curtain of snowflakes, Elissa made out the figures of the night patrol high up on the parapet and breathed a sigh of relief. Nothing appeared amiss. She thought it unlikely that anyone at Misterly had received word of Damian’s marriage to Kimbra or her own banishment to the convent and she intended for everyone to know of the sacrifice Damian had made on her behalf. Then she would take her mother and sister to Glenmoor before Damian returned with his bride.

Elissa halted the wagon before the gate, waiting for someone to come out of the gatehouse to identify her. As she peered through the iron bars, a frisson of alarm crawled up her spine. Instinct warned her that something was wrong, but she had no idea what it could be.

She was enormously relieved when someone hailed her from the keep. Sir Richard? She waved her hand in response and waited for him to open the gate.

“Elissa?” a gruff voice asked. “Where did you come from?”

Did she detect a Scottish burr? Aye, that voice definitely
wasn’t
Sir Richard’s. To her knowledge, none of the men Damian had left behind were Scotsmen. And it didn’t sound like one of her kinsmen.
Flee,
her inner voice warned. Unfortunately, she couldn’t turn the horse and wagon fast enough. When she heard the gate being cranked open, she panicked and scrambled down from the wagon to flee on foot. Three men seized her before she’d taken her first step. She recognized Tavis Gordon immediately.

“Tavis! What are you doing here? Where are Sir Richard and the others? What have you done with Mama and Lora?”

“Bring her inside,” Tavis ordered, ignoring her questions.

Elissa offered no resistance as she was hustled inside the keep, anxious to learn the fate of her family and the men Damian had left behind.

The great hall teemed with Gordons, and Elissa feared the worst when she noted the absence of Damian’s men. She brightened considerably when she saw Maggie racing toward her.

“Sweet Mother, you’ve returned,” Maggie cried, hugging Elissa fiercely.

“What happened, Maggie?”

“The Gordons, that’s what,” Maggie hissed. “There were too many of them. Lord Damian’s men were no match for the sheer numbers that scaled the walls and overran the keep. It happened shortly after Lord Damian left for London. What happened to ye? Where is Lord Damian?”

“Enough!” Tavis shouted. “Bring Elissa food and drink.” Grasping Elissa’s arm, he seated her at a table close to the hearth. “Sit down and warm yourself.”

“What have you done with Damian’s men?” Elissa demanded. “If you’ve harmed Mama or Lora, I’ll never forgive you.”

“Your family is fine,” Tavis allowed. “I havena hurt them. As for the Demon Knight’s men, they’ve been locked in the storeroom off the armory for the time being. ’Tis but the beginning, Elissa. I’ve rallied enough men to strike at the English garrison at Inverness. More displaced Highlanders will join us once they become aware of what I’ve accomplished. We will unite to bring the rightful ruler back from France and free Scotland from English oppression.”

“Instigating another rebellion is sheer madness,” Elissa warned. “Scotland is soaked with the blood of our clansmen; donna add to it.”

“The time is ripe,” Tavis raged. “Welshmen are occupying the English army along the border, and France is threatening war again. We’ll succeed this time.”

“Listen to me, Tavis. You’ll lead your men to certain death.”

Tavis glared at her. “What has happened to you, Elissa? Before the Demon Knight arrived, you lusted for English blood. What has he done to you?”

“I still donna like Englishmen, but I never lusted for blood. I lost too many loved ones to wish for another bloodbath. ’Tis over, Tavis. Leave Misterly before Damian learns what happened here. You know he’ll return to reclaim what is his. You canna win. You’re an outlaw with a price on your head.”

“I know what I’m doing, lass. Tell me what happened to you after the soldiers took you to London.”

“How did you know about that?”

“I had spies watching the fortress. Did you think I wouldna know what was happening here? Misterly should have been mine by right of marriage, and I’m not going to give it up.”

“So you took advantage of Damian’s absence and attacked.”

“That I did,” he boasted, “but you’re evading the subject. How did you persuade the Hanover to let you return to Misterly?”

“I dinna,” Elissa whispered, recalling with dread those horrible days in the Tower. “The king sent me to the Tower. I would have died there had Damian not pleaded for my life. He convinced the king to send me to the convent. I remained there but a fortnight before the opportunity to leave arose.”