Connie Mason (7 page)

Damian regarded her with suspicion. “I suppose you’ve laced it liberally with poison.”

Had he guessed?
“Why would I do anything that stupid while you hold my mother and sister hostage?”

“Hmmm,” Damian said, eyeing the wine with distrust. “Am I to assume, then, that you want this as badly as I do?”

Elissa bristled. “Assume anything you like.”

Damian poured wine into two goblets and handed one to Elissa. “You’ll join me, of course.”

“Of course,” Elissa said, taking the first sip…a tiny one. She tasted nothing unusual, and relaxed.

Damian watched her a long moment, then drank deeply from his own goblet. He rolled the wine on his tongue and let it slide down his throat.

“Excellent. French, I believe. Your father had good taste.” His next swallow emptied the glass and he set it down on the desk. Then he reached for her. Elissa set her glass down and backed away. “I canna do this, my lord. You are forcing me to do something I donna want.”

“I can make you want it,” Damian said with a conviction that made her legs tremble.

The hard, set look on his face made Elissa all too aware of her vulnerability.

“I won’t hurt you, Elissa. I promise you’ll find pleasure in my arms.”

“I donna want pleasure from you.”

“You don’t hate me, I can sense it.”

Elissa tossed her head. “I canna like an Englishman. ’Tis against everything I hold dear.”

“Give me your hand, Elissa.”

When she refused, Damian grasped her arm and pulled her toward the bed. “I’ll be gentle. There’s no hurry, we have all night.”

Elissa became aware of two things; the snakelike hiss of coals in the hearth, and the distant rumble of thunder. And something else: the naked hunger in Damian’s eyes.

“Shall I undress you, Elissa?”

Her mind raced furiously. “Nay! I…my wine! I dinna drink it.”

“Drink up,” he said as he snatched up her glass and handed it to her.

“Wait! I donna like to drink alone. Drink with me.”

Damian gave her a hard stare, then refilled his goblet. “If it pleases you, but if you’re hoping I’ll get drunk, forget it. I rarely drink to excess, especially on momentous occasions like this.”

He placed her glass in her hands and she took another tiny sip, pleased to note that he had emptied his goblet in one long gulp. Fearing to drink more than what she’d already imbibed, Elissa deliberately let the glass slip from her hands. It shattered, just as she’d intended, leaving a blood-red stain on the carpet.

Damian slanted Elissa an impatient look. Did he suspect?

“Shall I pour you another? It will only prolong the inevitable, you know.”

“I’ve had enough, thank you,” Elissa murmured. She watched him closely, waiting for the drugged wine to take effect. She prayed he had gotten enough of the drug, for she doubted she could get more wine down him.

Damian turned her around and began unfastening ties and buttons. Her gown fell away and she tried to grab it, but Damian would have none of it. He pulled her hands away and it pooled at her feet. He made no move to remove her knee-length shift as he lifted her out of the gown and brought her into his arms.

“You can’t begin to know how much I want you.”

“I know naught of what you’re talking about. You were the first man to kiss me.”

Damian looked properly abashed. “You mean Tavis Gordon never…I can’t believe it. You’re a lovely woman, Elissa, ’tis hard to believe no man ever tried to kiss you.”

Damian thought she was lovely, Elissa thought with pleasure. But the pleasure quickly vanished when she realized a smooth-tongued rake like the Demon Knight would say anything to get what he wanted. Fortunately she knew better than to believe his flattery. There wasn’t an Englishman alive who could measure up to a braw Highland laddie.

His lips hovered scant inches from hers; she smelled wine on his breath, and something else: his own special scent she would recognize anywhere. He was going to kiss her. Oh, God, she couldn’t bear it. Why was he still standing? He was supposed to be unconscious…or at the very least, groggy. She stifled a smile when he staggered.

Then his lips swooped down on hers and her thoughts scattered. She was aware of nothing but the taste and feel of him, of his hands roaming freely over her, of his hard body pressing urgently against hers. Her eyes drifted shut, and when she opened them, she found him watching her with hooded intensity. Her breath caught. She couldn’t breathe, couldn’t move. She called forth her strength and tried to push him away, but her resistance was halfhearted, a fact of which she was all too aware.

“You’ll not escape me,” Damian murmured against her lips. “I’ve been ready for you since the day we met.”

He grasped her hand and placed it on his groin. “That’s what a man in need feels like, Elissa. How much do you know about what takes place between a man and a woman in bed?”

“Enough to understand ’tis wrong outside the bounds of marriage,” she snapped.

“I’m talking about the physical aspect. Do you know what’s going to happen tonight?”

“Nothing is going to happen.”

“You’re wrong, sweeting. I can’t possibly let you leave now.”

Before she could form a coherent thought, he scooped her up and placed her in the center of the bed. Her breath hitched painfully. It didn’t take an experienced woman to know he was a man in rut, fully charged and eager to take what he wanted.

She stared up at him, mesmerized by his taut expression. There was a sleepy look about his eyes, and a lazy, sinfully sensuous slant to his smile. Why was he still able to function? Had Nan failed her? Then she took a closer look. His pupils were dilated and his smile drooped a little. Pray God he passed out soon.

He didn’t. His knowing smile increased her panic and she raised up on her elbows. His gaze dropped to her parted lips, then moved slowly downward, lingering on her linen-clad breasts and the sweep of her bare legs. When he dropped down on his haunches beside her and whispered in a low, driven tone precisely what he intended to do to her, Elissa lost the ability to breathe.

She swallowed convulsively as he covered her body with his and his mouth found hers again. His kiss sent spirals of heat charging through her body, and she hated herself for it. This was an Englishman kissing her, a man who looted and stole from Highlanders, and, aye, killed them.

Guilt rode her relentlessly, and she renewed her efforts to resist him, but his superior strength overwhelmed her. And then something strange and frightening happened: she started kissing him back. Her hands crept around his neck, pulling him closer, and her lips softened and molded to his. She heard him laugh, a dark and seductive sound deep in his throat, and she knew the misbegotten blackguard had won.

“Let me take off my clothes first,” Damian panted into her ear. He tore off his clothing and tossed it aside.

Had Elissa been in control of her mind, she would have leapt from the bed and fled. Yet she could do nothing but stare at him with mouth agape. She looked her fill at his broad, sculptured chest, bulging biceps, and thickly muscled legs. Though she tried to avoid it, her gaze was drawn to his thick manhood. A gasp left her lips. She never imagined a man in full rut would be so huge. He would kill her.

Fear pummeled her. But before she could flee, he grasped the hem of her shift and stripped it up and off. One dark hand held her in place while, with the other, he reached down and touched her between her thighs.

“Nay!” She trembled, shaken by violent stirrings of arousal. Devil take her, she liked that too well.

“Shh.” He dropped down beside her then shook his head, as if bewildered by something.

“What is it?” Elissa asked, hoping, praying that the drugged wine was finally working.

He shook his head again. “That’s odd.”

“What’s odd? Would you like some more wine?”

“Nay, I want my wits about me when I make love to you. Spread your legs, sweeting,” he whispered.

He pulled her beneath him and settled between her thighs. His lips brushed her breast and he drew the tender nipple into his mouth. Elissa moaned and arched against him as he began to suckle her. Then she felt something warm and hard and thick probing against her center and waited fearfully for the pain. She knew so little about how this was accomplished and had hoped to wait for her wedding day to find out. Now a despised Englishman would despoil her and for some strange reason the only thing she regretted was allowing herself to be seduced by the enemy. What kind of woman was she to betray her principles for a moment of pleasure?

Guilt rode her mercilessly.

“Elissa, look at me.”

Damian’s voice sounded strangely slurred. She looked up at him and noted that his eyes were glazing over. His eyebrows were together, producing one dark slash across his forehead.

“This is how I want you. Beneath me, gazing up at me with those…magnificent…green eyes. Devil…take it! What’s…wrong with…me? I…can’t seem to…think.”

Finally,
Elissa thought with relief. The drugged wine was working. Twinges of conscience still plagued her, however, for finding pleasure in Damian’s kisses and enjoying his touch far too much.

Elissa blew out a sigh when Damian slumped against her. She started to ease out from under him when he lifted his head and stared at her with a clarity that belied his drugged state.

“Damn you! What…did you do…to me?” Then his eyes rolled back in his head and he went limp.

Elissa pushed him away and eased off the mattress, scrambling out of reach. But she needn’t have worried. He wasn’t going to move for a very long time. The longer she stared at him the more she worried that the drug had killed him, and that’s not what she wanted. She dressed hurriedly, her gaze never straying from Damian’s face.

Inhaling a steadying breath, Elissa cautiously approached the bed. When Damian made no threatening move, she leaned closer and placed a hand on his chest, relieved to feel the steady cadence of his heart beneath her palm. Suddenly he stirred, and she drew back sharply, but he gave no sign of awakening. Then she turned and fled. It wasn’t until she was safely in her own chamber that she allowed herself to relax.

“Did the drug work, lass?”

Elissa spun on her heel, startled to find Nan standing behind her.

“Aye, thank you, Nan. But it took longer than I expected.”

“Lord Damian isna a wee man. I should have told you it wouldna work immediately.” She gave Elissa a shrewd look. “Are ye all right?”

Elissa flushed and looked away. “Aye, he dinna…well, he passed out before…the deed was done.”

“I donna need to tell ye he’s going to be furious when he awakens. If I were ye, lass, I’d stay out of his way until his anger cools.”

“I intend to.”

Nan grunted. “So will I, but I fear ’tis ye who will suffer his temper. I shouldna have helped ye. ‘Twill only postpone what fate has already decreed.”

Elissa’s head snapped up. “Nan! What are you saying? You’re hinting that Damian and I…that we’ll…”

“Aye, lass, ’tis bound to happen.”

“Naught is going to happen between Damian and me. I willna let it.”

“Are ye saying the demon’s touch disgusted ye? I canna believe it.”

“You donna understand, Nan,” Elissa cried. “Damian’s touch dinna disgust me, just the opposite. I enjoyed his kisses, welcomed his hands on me, and I hated myself for it. I felt like a traitor. If the drug hadna worked, I would have allowed him to take me like a…trollop.”

Sobs shook Elissa. Nan patted her shoulder, making comforting sounds. Guilt was a powerful emotion and Elissa was suffering a double dose.

“Donna fret, lass. Ye were experiencing passion for the first time.”

“But I wanted to experience passion with Tavis Gordon, not with an accursed Englishman,” Elissa wailed. “Does wanting someone make me a wanton, Nan?”

“Nay, lass. Ye are a woman attracted by a man ye want to hate. Ye should have listened when I said ye wouldna wed Tavis Gordon.”

She regarded the old woman with dread. “Am I to remain a spinster all my life?”

Nan cackled. “A spinster? Ye will present yer first child to yer husband within the year.”

Elissa recoiled in dismay. “You’re mad! Leave me, your nonsense is making my head ache.” Deliberately she turned her back on her old nurse.

“Verra well, lass, but donna waste yer time looking for a husband; he abides beneath yer verra nose.”

When Elissa whirled to deliver a scathing retort, Nan had already let herself out the door.

Damian cranked his eyes open, aware of several things at once: his head throbbed, his mouth tasted foul, and sunlight was slanting through the window. It wasn’t like him to sleep past dawn. His brows drew together in painful concentration as he tried to recall the night past.

Memory returned in fits and starts.

Elissa…

Gingerly he shifted his body and reached across the bed. The place beside him was empty, and suddenly he remembered. Despite his rattled brain, he recalled the wine he’d imbibed at Elissa’s insistence, and anger exploded through him. She’d drugged him! Rage brought him surging out of bed. The moment his feet hit the floor he swayed dizzily and grasped the bedpost to keep from falling.

The deceitful vixen!
This was the first time a woman had made a fool of him and he vowed it would be the last. He’d be the laughingstock if anyone got wind of this. He tottered over to the washbowl, filled it with water from the pitcher, and plunged his head into the bowl. After two dunkings, his wits returned, and he forced his mind back to the events of the previous night.

He’d been suspicious of the wine from the beginning. It wasn’t like Elissa to be so obliging. He should have gone with his gut feeling, but he was so damn aroused he could think of nothing but being inside Elissa. And like a besotted fool he’d watched her sip the wine and believed it safe.

Aye. A bloody fool he’d been.

Bitterness welled up inside him. Did she intend to kill him? He discarded that thought immediately. Had she wanted to, she could have plunged a knife into his heart while he lay unconscious. Elissa wasn’t a killer; she was a conniver. He’d have to watch her carefully, be on his guard for her next trick. But whether she liked it or not, he
would
have her. And soon.

Damian found Elissa in the courtyard with Lora. She’d managed to avoid him the entire morning, but he wasn’t about to let her escape his wrath so easily. Lora spied him first.

“Damian! Would you like to see the rag doll Lissa made for me?” She held Elissa’s creation up for Damian’s inspection.

Damian smiled at Lora, then slanted a dark glance at Elissa, pleased to note the flicker of fear in her green eyes. She had good reason to fear him.

“You’re looking well, little one,” he said, returning his attention to the child.

“I’m verra well, thank you. Nan said I’m well enough to be up and about now.”

“That is good news,” Damian said, genuinely pleased.

Just then two children skipped up and grasped Lora’s hand. “Come to the stables with us, Lora. Patches had her kittens.”

Damian had seen the children about before but didn’t know who they belonged to.

“Is it all right, Lissa?” Lora asked hopefully.

“Nay, I donna think…”

“Run along, Lora,” Damian said in a voice that brooked no argument. “I would like a private word with your sister.”

Lora and her friends skipped off. “Who are they?” Damian asked. “I’ve seen those children around but don’t know who they belong to.”

“They’re Lachlan’s grandchildren,” Elissa said. “Their father died at Culloden and Lachlan’s been supporting them since they were just wee bairns. Now if you’ll excuse me…”

“Not so fast. Walk with me,” he said, grasping her arm to keep her from fleeing.

Elissa dragged her feet but Damian would have none of it. He pulled her along with him until they reached a place where they couldn’t be overheard. He stopped so abruptly she bounced against him. Then he rounded on her, his face ripe with accusation.

“You tried to kill me! Did you think to escape Sir Richard’s wrath had you succeeded? You would have been put to death.”

Elissa blanched. Kill him? How could he think that of her? “Nay, I did no such thing.”

“What drug did you use?”

“A sleeping potion. It did you no harm.”

“Treachery! Do you despise me so much?”

“You’re an Englishman,” she said, as if that explained everything. “I belong to Tavis Gordon.”

He grasped her shoulders and dragged her against him, his expression fiercely determined. “You belong to me. Accept it. Your fate is in my hands. You
will
come to my bed, Elissa, without coercion on my part. I swear it!”

“Never! The verra fact that you’re an Englishman makes that unlikely.”

His inflexible stance should have warned her. Silent tension stretched between them. She knew she should say something to break the taut silence but the words died in her throat when she realized he was going to kiss her. Though it was the last thing Elissa wanted, her face tilted upward and she moistened her parted lips with the tip of her tongue.

“Vixen,” he said in a low, driven voice. “While you batter me with words, your body bids me welcome. Do you enjoy teasing me?”

Elissa blinked. Why did she let him do this to her? He seemed to take great pleasure in leading her down the path of betrayal. She had to be more vigilant in the future. The darkly seductive Demon Knight mustn’t be allowed to destroy her pride, her very honor.

Shaking her head to clear it of Damian’s tantalizing scent, Elissa fought to free herself. “Go away!”

Damian laughed as his arms closed tightly around her. “Not yet,” he growled.

She closed her eyes as his mouth took hers. His lips were soft but the rest of his body was stiff and unyielding. Clutching awkwardly at his shoulders, she fought his desire as well as her own. It shouldn’t be like this. She couldn’t…shouldn’t want him. She’d spent most of her life hating Englishmen. What made this man different?

Abruptly Damian broke off the kiss and stepped away, his expression strangely tender. But his voice held a hard edge as he said, “We’ll see who can hold out longer, my lady. Compared to me, you’re a novice at this game.”

Elissa regarded him with derision. “I’m playing no game, my lord.”

“Women always play games. ’Tis their nature.” His grin unnerved her. “My chamber door will always be open to you. Come to me when you wish to learn more about the pleasure I promised.”

She turned her head away. “I will never come to you.”

Then a strange thing happened. From the corner of her eye Elissa noticed a man who seemed oddly familiar enter the courtyard with a group of tradesmen. He wore Fraser plaid and a bonnet pulled low over his forehead. But for one spellbinding moment, the man raised his head and looked directly at her and Damian.

Recognition shuddered through her and she felt the warmth drain from her face.

Tavis Gordon!

“What’s wrong?” Damian asked sharply. “Are you ill?”

Did Damian suspect the reason for her distraction? “Naught is wrong. ’Tis time I found Lora and returned to the keep to begin her lessons.”

Damian released her instantly. “Lora’s a bright child, she’ll do well at lessons. Will you teach her yourself?”

Elissa nodded. “If you have no objections.”

“Nay, ‘twill keep you out of trouble.”

Elissa hurried off. She’d never understand Damian. He was a hardened soldier, an unrelenting adversary and ruthless in many ways, but he seemed genuinely concerned about Lora and Marianne. It was almost as if he were two different men, and the face he showed her was not the same one he presented to her mother and sister. But Elissa had other things to worry about. What was Tavis Gordon doing at Misterly?

Tavis appeared from nowhere as she rounded the corner on her way to the stables to find Lora. He grasped her arm and roughly dragged her into the shadowy interior of the building.

“Tavis, you shouldna be here.”

“I had to see you. Are you all right? What has the English bastard done to you?”

Elissa wondered if Tavis had seen Damian kiss her. “He’s done naught. I was supposed to be sent to the convent but Lord Damian dinna think that was a good idea. I may yet be sent to London for the Hanover to deal with me. The English donna want us to wed and unite our clans.”

“They canna stop us,” Tavis said fiercely.

“What can you do? ’Tis dangerous for you to be here.”

“’Tisna safe to talk here,” Tavis hissed. “Meet me in the stables tonight, after the evening meal. Donna let anyone see you. I’ll explain everything then.”

They heard voices and Tavis stepped deeper into the shadows. “Tonight, lass, donna fail me.”

He disappeared around the corner just as Lora and her friends appeared.

“Lissa, you should see the kittens! They’re adorable.”

“Some other time, sweeting,” Elissa said. “’Tis time to resume your lessons. Shall we go up to the schoolroom and begin?”

“If you say so,” Lora said without enthusiasm. “Can I come back out and play later?”

“We’ll see how you feel,” Elissa hedged.

The day passed slowly for Elissa. She spent two hours teaching Lora her letters and visited a few minutes with Marianne. Afterward, she went to the kitchen to assist with the midday meal. Many hours remained before she was to meet Tavis, and she wondered where he had hidden himself. Had he come to take her away? She wouldn’t leave without her mother and sister. Though Damian treated them well, that could change in a heartbeat should she leave them at his mercy. Had Marianne been well enough to travel, she would have attempted to take her away through the secret tunnel long ago. Dimly she wondered if Damian had found the escape route or if he was still looking.

Damian watched Elissa through shuttered eyes. She appeared distracted and he knew she must be up to something. And it couldn’t be good. She refused to meet his gaze, though she had to be aware of his scrutiny. He knew she wasn’t worried about her family for he’d checked on them earlier and they were fine. Lady Marianne’s spirits had seemed good, and that had pleased him. He had been shocked to find Sir Brody in her chamber and moreso to discover that it wasn’t the first time the grizzled old knight had visited with Marianne. Was something going on that he should know about? Or was his imagination running away with him?

Damian waited until the hall emptied after the evening meal before confronting Elissa. He intercepted her as she headed toward the solar to seek her bed.

“I’d like a word with you, Elissa.”

“Your words weary me, my lord. I’d like to retire.”

“In a moment. Is something amiss?”

Elissa regarded him from beneath hooded lids. He thought her deliberately evasive and was convinced that she was hiding something from him.

“I’m a prisoner, my lord. What could be more amiss than that?”

His probing gaze lingered on her for a long moment. “If it is treachery you’re planning, forget it. You can’t win. Go seek your bed, lady. Should you wish my company, you have but to climb the tower stairs.” Then he turned and strode away.

Elissa stared after him, admiring things about him she had no business noticing. She had seen him naked; she knew what lay beneath his clothing. How could she not remember the knotted muscles beneath skin marred only by battle scars? It was difficult to believe a man existed who was more physically attractive than the Demon Knight.

The memory of the long, thick lance between his thighs called forth the shimmering pleasure his kisses and caresses had brought her. She gave an angry toss of her head. Lurid thoughts about her enemy were wicked; she had to stop this nonsense.

Elissa reached the top landing and decided to bid her mother good night before seeking her own chamber and preparing for her meeting with Tavis. She was stunned to find Sir Brody sitting in a chair beside her mother’s bed. He rose immediately.

“Lady Elissa.”

“Sir Brody. How kind of you to keep my mother company. I know she gets lonely confined to her bed so much of the time.”

“Sir Brody seeks my opinion often about the daily workings at Misterly. He is doing a good job as steward, but…”

“I couldn’t do it without Lady Marianne’s advice,” Sir Brody was quick to add. “If you’ll excuse me, I’ll bid you both good night.”

Elissa was dismayed to note the way Marianne’s gaze followed Sir Brody’s substantial form.

“He seems like a nice man…for an Englishman,” Elissa ventured. “He appeared comfortable here with you.”

“As I said before, we confer on castle business. I was mistress here for many years and know everything there is to know about managing an estate this size.”

“Just so his visits donna tire you, Mama.”

“Is there something you wanted to discuss with me, dear one?”

I want to tell you about Tavis.
“Nay. I wanted to make sure you have everything you need for the night.”

“Nan and Maggie take good care of me.”

“Then I’ll bid you good night.”

Marianne grasped her hand. “Wait! You appear troubled.”

“Is it so obvious?”

“To me it is. Is it Lord Damian? Does he mistreat you?”

Elissa looked away. “Nay, not exactly. ’Tis just…oh, Mama, please donna tell anyone.”

“Tell them what? You can say anything to me, daughter, and I will understand.”

Elissa had to talk to someone and her mother was the logical choice. She dragged in a sustaining breath. “I saw Tavis. He’s at Misterly.”

Marianne sat up a little straighter. “Tavis? Here? It canna be. Is the man daft? Did you speak with him? What does he want?”

“I donna know what he wants. I’m to meet him tonight in the stables.”

“Oh, Elissa, donna do it. No good can come of it.”

“I have to, Mama. He’s my betrothed. Tavis can help us escape. If we band together, the Gordons and Frasers can drive the English devils from Misterly.”

Marianne gave a shaky sigh. “I lost as much, if not more, at Culloden than anyone, but even I know ’tis time to give up the fight. The Highlanders were defeated and severely punished. The English now control our lands. Conspiring with Tavis Gordon could wipe out our clan, and I know you donna want that. We’ve already lost too many loved ones.”

Elissa’s tortured words came from deep within her soul. “I want my home back; I want to live free of cursed Englishmen. I want the Demon Knight to disappear from my life.”

“Accept that which canna be changed,” Marianne advised. “Donna listen to Tavis, he’s a rabble rouser. Neither Nan nor I believe he’s right for you.”

“What
is
right for me? The life of a nun? Imprisonment? Death?”