Elise (21 page)

“Where did he put me? In the bloody turret?” Colin grumbled.

“The stairs grow longer the more you stand about, wasting time, Your Grace. Either that, or you should have rested on the road.”

Colin bit back the retort. She heard it in his throat and hid her nose against his neck again.

“You’ve been given rooms on the second floor, just as Lord Dunvargas ordered. Your Graces? Your apartments.”

The strange voice probably belonged to Wilson. Elise heard some conversing between Mick and the man, and then footsteps as Wilson left. The sound of a door yawning open was next.

Colin set her down the moment he went through it. It took a moment for her legs to function. He obviously didn’t enjoy carrying her, which was fine with her. She told herself that she liked it even less.

“See that she stays here. See that she eats all that’s sent up.”

“Aye, Your Grace. It will be as you order, Your Grace. Oh, anything you say, Your Grace.”

“I should have sent you ahead and kept Martin. Either that, or had that Wilson see to my needs.”

Mick winked at Elise and her eyes widened. Then she opened her mouth and started talking.

“Colin—uh, I mean, Your Grace? I have some requirements of you before you go.”

She’d surprised him, as well as the four men at his heels. Elise had to turn her head and hide her smile at the five identical expressions. Only Mick was grinning. Elise knew why. His Grace, the Duke of MacGowan, had overplayed his hand. He was the one who had wished it to look like they’d been occupied with each other the entire ride, not her. Now, it was going to be her pleasure to use it.

“Requirements?”

He was choking on the word, and Elise had to get control of her expression before she turned to him. It wasn’t easy with Mick stifling laughter on the inside of the door where Colin couldn’t see him. She tossed her hair and turned to look at him over her shoulder. She used her most seductive voice.

“I’m going to need a hipbath of warmed water. I’ll need my trunk of... well, the smaller one, with the ebony inlay. It contains my creams. I’ll also need a gown and all the flimsy things that go under it. My knickers aren’t the only frilly little things I wear, and you know it.”

Absolute silence was her answer, except for Mick; his face was red, and strange, chortling sounds were coming from him. The door he was holding was swaying, too. Elise was surprised Colin didn’t notice.

“Go now, and have the creams sent up first. I have to get them rubbed into my skin, for the proper silk-like feel. You might want to fetch a lady’s maid to assist this time. I’d hate to overtire you again. Run along, and take your men with you. I’ve no need of an audience.”

“You’re na’ to leave these rooms.” His face was stiff, and his mouth was a slash of ugliness.

“Oh, I wouldn’t dream of it, Your Grace. I’ll be far too busy. I am the notorious Ice Goddess, you know. I have to get ready for the part. It’s going to take a while now that you’ve gone and mussed it up, too.”

His face hadn’t changed, although now it looked carved of stone. “You’re to stay, and you’re to eat everything I send up.”

“I’m certain your man, Mick, will see that I do.”

“I’m na’ leaving Mick here with you.”

“But you already told him he had to stay at my door and make certain that I ate. You’re confusing me, Your Grace.”

Elise was attempting her most innocent look. She let the blanket slip a fraction off her shoulder, and then pulled it back up, modestly. His Honor Guard was no longer looking at her. They were studiously watching anything but her, except for Mick: he was stone-faced, too.

Elise knew her color was heightened, but she met Colin’s gaze evenly and didn’t shirk at the anger written on every feature. He’d started it, and two could play this game.

“I’ll na’ stay with Dunvargas all eve.”

He was speaking in a low, threatening tone. Elise lifted her head.

“I’m gratified. I’d hate to think his lordship’s company, and his spirits, hold your interest more than my charms do. You’d have me thinking I’m losing my touch.”

“You mistake me.”

The four members of his Honor Guard weren’t at his heels anymore. They were fading quite nicely into the shadow of the stairs behind him. She watched them do it but couldn’t hear a sound. For large men, they were amazingly silent.

“Do I? As I recall, it wasn’t me setting any stage this time. It was you. Now, you’re just going to have to live with it. Just like I do.”

“By all that’s holy—”

“Oh, please, Your Grace, don’t start that up again. I’ll be obedient, I promise. I’ll have a nice long soak, get creams massaged into my skin, eat my sup, and find my bed. I won’t even wait up, if that’s your wish.”

“That’s na’ my wish.”

“You want me awaiting you, then? I wish you’d make up your mind, Your Grace.”

“That is na’ what I said.”

“But you did. You said—”

“I’m going to go get uproariously drunk, Elise. If you’re awake when I return, we’ll find out then, will na’ we?”

He snarled after he said it, as if the entire thing were her fault. Elise didn’t have to answer. Mick’s choked exclamation did it for her. Colin spun on his heel.

~ ~ ~

Elise stood at her chamber door and debated her options. She knew she was looking her best. That wasn’t the problem. She was wearing her blue day-gown, her hair was pinned atop her head in a mass of curls, her gloves were buttoned, and her shoes were shined. She had lightly dusted rice powder across her nose, touched such a small amount of rouge to her lips as to be nonexistent, and enhanced her lashes with watered-down soot.

The maid who been assisting her had watched all of it and said nothing. She didn’t have to. The distaste on her face was obvious. Elise was glad when the old, sanctimonious woman left, although she’d had to knock to be let out.

The reason for Elise’s indecision was obvious. It was the retinue of MacGowan clansmen who were bound to be outside her chamber door. Colin had instructed her on how she was supposed to look, but he hadn’t said when. The last thing she wished was to be sent back to her chamber like a misbehaving child.

Elise took a deep breath, then turned the knob.

Mick looked up from studying the stone at his feet and smiled. Elise almost returned it. She scanned the hall. Only Mick stood there.

“Where is the Honor Guard?”

“The laird dismissed the rest.”

“Why, please?”

“Most like, he dinna’ wish any observers.”

“Observers to what?”

He shrugged.

“Where is Colin—I mean, His Grace?”

Mick’s lips fought another smile at her lapse. He gestured with his head to another door.

“Is he awake, then?” she asked.

“Doubtful. He was na’ in a wakeful mood.”

“He wasn’t? Then he can’t stop me, can he?”

“Depends on what you’ve in mind to do. We’ve orders.”

“There’s that word again. I was planning on finding myself a bit of repast. That’s as shifty as I wish to be this morning. Maybe after I’ve breakfasted, I’ll feel differently. I’ll let you know my plans, then.”

“I’ve orders,” he replied.

“Is he thinking to starve me?”

“Nae.”

“Then why can’t I see to my breakfast?”

“I’ve nae objection,” he answered.

“Good.” Elise made as if to pass him, but he reached out and put an arm across her path, stopping her. “I thought you just said—”

He interrupted her by putting a finger to his lips. “If what I’m about to tell you becomes common knowledge, I’ll na’ longer be accepted by my clan. Do you ken what that means?”

“Perhaps you’d best not say it, then.”

“Someone has to.”

Elise frowned. “I really shouldn’t waste time like this. Imagine what His Grace would say if he saw it. Besides, there’s certain to be eggs and some gruel on the sideboard. Such things are best served warm.”

“I’ve been watching you,” he replied.

“That isn’t surprising, considering your orders.”

“It is na’ true what they say of you. It can na’ be.”

Tears glittered in her eyes and she looked away before he saw them. “Perhaps I’d be better served having a tray delivered to my room. You’ll see to it, won’t you?” Elise turned around and went back to her chamber door. Mick was a more effective guard than all the others combined, she decided.

“There’s something more you’re hiding from him. I doona’ know what it is yet, but there’s something. I only hope it is na’ going to hurt him more than I can repair, this time.”

“Hurt him? Hurt? His Grace? We are obviously not discussing the same man. I’m sorry I stepped out. And trust me, you’ve no reason whatsoever to fear for your position in Clan MacGowan from me. Good day to you.”

“Tell me you’re na’ being wronged, then.”

She was on the inside of the door, with the doorknob in her hand, and had to avert her face. “You are very… perceptive,” she whispered.

“Colin is very important to me. I’ve had the care of him since he was a lad. You’ve the wrong idea of him.”

“Oh, really? I think I’ve got him, and his reasons, directly in my sights. He makes certain of it, too.”

“You gave him na’ other choice!”

“Oh, this is priceless. I suppose next you’ll tell me that I gagged myself in the stable building and locked myself into a railroad car.”

“He has to treat you as he does. Being the MacGowan Laird gives him nae other choice. His entire Honor Guard, and most of the clan, know what you did by now.”

“Having Rory wasn’t something I did to His Grace.”

“I’m na’ speaking of the bairn.”

“No? This should be even better. What is it, then, that I’ve done to His Grace, the Great Laird of the MacGowan clan?”

“Taken the heart right out of him and defiled it.”

“I beg your pardon?” Elise said.

“I saw you at the abbey. I was there, remember? If what I saw was false, you had me fooled, too.”

“I’ve decided I’m not hungry, after all,” Elise said, in a tight little voice.

“Do you know where he spent his wedding night, after seeing you and the bairn?”

“I don’t want to hear this,” she answered, then shut the door. She wasn’t quick enough, though. She heard the answer, then leaned her head against the wood. She would have given anything not to have heard it.

“Grievin’ in my room, that’s where.”

Chapter 21

The indecision was the worst part. Elise knew it, as scene after scene played through her mind. If she gave in to the picture of Colin that his man Mick had just painted, she couldn’t hate him. If she didn’t hate him, she had to name the other emotion she felt for him. If she named that, she’d go to him; and if that happened, she’d have to face what she already knew. She still wasn’t good enough for a MacGowan, and when he found that out, the penalty would probably be worse.

Probably?
She didn’t know why she questioned it. Her heart already knew it. Only the mind was in doubt.

She’d spent the better part of the day pacing her chamber, and it wasn’t getting her anywhere. She glared at the fireplace as if it were at fault and twirled about.

The gown, which had been pressed and sent up for her to wear, was loose fitting. It hadn’t been that way when she’d purchased it, but Colin’s treatment of her had effectively stifled her appetite. It was an odd feeling to have the sway of her skirts a fraction of time behind her. If she hadn’t already dismissed the cranky old maid they’d lent her, she’d get a stitch or two put into the waist. That would solve her problem.

Stupid girl!
Nothing short of the truth would solve her problem! Elise grimaced at her reflection and turned back around.

She’d bought this black satin dress, with a heart-shaped neckline, for the visual effect. Petticoats shimmered down the front, all in descending shades of gray. It would look perfect with Colin’s star-shaped diamonds, but she’d sworn never to touch them again.

She cursed Mick again in her mind, before crossing to her reticule. It didn’t take long to clasp the necklace. She didn’t have the skill to weave the star strands through the one long braid that went down her back. It was a moot point. Colin probably wouldn’t even notice.

“His Grace requests your presence in one of the antechambers. I’m to see you there.”

Elise had bade the MacGowan man to enter when he knocked. They didn’t exchange further words as she followed him. It wasn’t his fault he’d been given the duty of escorting her. Elise counseled herself not to take out her temper on him. He was just relaying the message. He couldn’t be faulted for Colin’s behavior. She glared at his back, anyway.

After the third hall, she was glad she had the MacGowan man to follow. She hadn’t any estimate of the size of Castle Dunvargas, but it wasn’t small. Colin’s words while carrying her last evening made sense now. She’d given them a different meaning entirely, and actually blushed at the fantasy. She’d suspected his trouble had something to do with having her in his arms. She really was turning into a fool.

Her guard opened one door of many and waved her in. Elise listened for the sound of a key turning behind her, before she shook off the fancy. Colin wouldn’t wish that scandal.

The duke wasn’t awaiting her in the room, a stranger was. Elise was familiar enough with the MacGowan full dress to know a different clan immediately upon seeing one. Her eyes widened at the clash of colors he was presenting.

“Please forgive me, sir, I must be in the wrong room.”

“You’re the Sassenach.”

His words were clipped with anger and said in such a thick brogue that Elise frowned as her mind replayed it for her.

“I beg your pardon?”

He spouted some of the Gaelic dialect and glared at her. Elise could sense waves of emotion emanating from him, and she took a step back toward the door.

“You’ve nae learning, have you?”

Elise narrowed her eyes before answering, and she put a touch of sarcasm to her words. “That depends on which subject you’re referring to. For instance, you’re demonstrating your lack of learning in manners, as we speak.”

“I’ve na’ need of lessons in that.”

“Not unless you normally make gentle-bred ladies faint.” Elise fanned herself briskly with her glove. The man was tall, but no more so than Colin. He was leaner, too. He was wearing what had once been a bright yellow tartan with an interwoven sett of blue and brown. His hair and eyebrows were an unattractive orange-red color. He was probably in luck when his beard grew in black, she decided.

“You feel faint, then?”

“I guess I’m not gentle-bred enough. What is this nonsense of a... what did you say? A Sassenach. What is that?”

“English. You’re the damned Sassenach.”

“Well, I may be English, but I’m not certain I’m damned, to boot. Even if I were, I’m not the only one, by any means. You don’t get out much, do you?”

When he flushed, it was a purplish shade of red. His eyes narrowed, and he strode across the room in less than ten steps. Despite her best intentions, Elise backed another step toward the door.

“I doona’ need a lesson, Madame.”

“Oh, I’d say you’re in need of several. Starting with how to properly introduce oneself. My name is Elise MacGowan, the new Duchess of MacGowan. And you are?”

“You doona’ know what you’ve done.”

“Aside from a bit of banter, you’re right, I don’t. I was looking for my husband. Since you are obviously not he, darn my luck anyway, I must be in the wrong chamber. I really hate to leave such charming company, but—”

“It’ll be thanks to you the killing will go on.”

He punctuated his words by aiming a forefinger at Elise’s forehead. Her eyes crossed as she followed it.

“I’m afraid I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Elise shook her head to uncross her eyes before pulling her head back to meet his glare again.

“A fancy piece. That’s all you are.” He spat the words.

“You know, I would’ve thought even Scottish dukes kept their guest lists free of lunatics, but there you go. What do I know? You sir, are in dire need of more lessons than I care to teach. Good day.”

“Colin should have just bedded with you and left. It’d be what his brothers would have done. There never was a way of talking sense to that stone-head.”

Elise narrowed her eyes again. She already knew what Evan was capable of. It sounded worse to hear it put to words, and to know that it was no secret. When she spoke again, it was with a brusque, cool, uninterested tone.

“You appear to know my husband. All well and good, then. He was supposed to be waiting for me. I really think I’d best find him. He’ll be looking for me by now.”

“Aye, I know him. Grew up with him. He was a thickheaded brat, then. Still is. Always was one for games of brawn and contest and nae sense. He’s gone and proved it now.”

“Oh, let me guess. This has something to do with me, no doubt?” she asked, in a sweet tone that dripped with sarcasm. It was lost on him.

“He should have had sense enough to uphold clan honor. That’s what a real Scotsman would have done.”

“Upholding clan honor? My Colin? You are mistaken, sir. He’s an expert at that. This is the second time I’ve discussed my husband with others who are apparently clueless to his real nature. It seems to be a curse today. Now, if you’ll excuse me? I really must go.”

“You twist words like a woman.”

“That’s very observant of you. Would you like to try for two? I’ve been known to dress like one, too.”

He leaned toward her, and his nostrils flared with each breath. Elise looked at him as though he held as much interest as a dust mote. She held her eyelids halfway closed and hoped he’d know contempt when he saw it.

“You’ve spirit, have na’ you?”

He surprised her with his instant smile. Elise raised her eyebrows a fraction before she replied.

“Among other things, yes.”

“When I first laid eyes on you, I thought a slight gust might knock you over. You’re as colorless as a ghost, you know.”

“Your compliments turn my head. That, they do. What do you do for an encore, pray tell?”

“It’s a shame. That’s what it is.”

“What is such a shame? My coloring? My country? My marriage? Your existence? Be specific, if you please.”

He tossed back his head to laugh. Elise watched the fringe hanging from him sway with the motion. She noticed the tassels on his socks were of a coordinating color scheme but in a smaller sett. With such an array of color, it was no wonder he thought her pale.

“Name’s Torquil.”

He bent at the waist and bowed in as courtly a fashion as any she’d seen in London. Elise didn’t say a thing as he picked up her hand and brought it to his lips. She snatched it back.

“Torquil Brennen MacHugh Douglas MacKennah.”

“All of that is your name?”

“Only son. My parents made up for lost opportunity.”

“I see. Relation to Mary, I presume?”

“Little brother.”

“My, my. That does explain your comments. Some of them, anyway. I really must be going now, Lord MacKennah. I’d stay and make small talk, but that pleasure has already palled on me.”

“Call me Torquil. I give you free leave of it. I’m going to call you Elise. You can blame it on my lack of manners.”

“I’d like to think there’s no reason to call you anything. I’ll not be entertaining much. If you’re a close neighbor, I don’t think I’ll be entertaining at all.”

“The MacKennah property marches next to the MacGowan.”

“In that case, if I do entertain, I’ll just have to scratch your name off of my guest list.”

“I’ll have to use my other middle names, then.”

“Good heavens, you’ve more?”

“Only son, remember?”

Elise giggled. She couldn’t help it.

“It really is a shame. I can’t get over it.” He was shaking his head as he said it.

“I take it we’re talking about my marriage now?” she asked.

“That, and you’re a Sassenach. I can na’ blame Colin, though. If I’d seen you first, I might have been tempted to taste you myself, and clan honor be damned.”

Elise sucked in a gasp.
Scotsmen!
she thought “Allow me to dissuade you from continuing this conversation. I have a tidbit of information for you. I’m not very tasty, and I don’t like Scotsmen.”

“Nary a one?”

“No.”

He raised his eyebrows. “Na’ even your husband?”

“Oh, him.” Elise frowned.

“I’m a mite tempted to put that to the test. Right now. Right here. You and me. A stolen kiss? What do you say?”

Elise gulped. “I thought I wasn’t colorful enough for you.”

“I’ve been amending my opinion.”

He took a step closer. He was definitely as tall as Colin but about a third less in bulk. The instant thought calmed her. She narrowed her eyes up at him.

“Oh, please don’t bother on my account.”

“Why na’?”

“I’m pale, a woman, and horror of horrors, English to boot.”

“That is a problem, to be sure.”

“I’m already wed, too. To The MacGowan. His property.”

He sighed and backed up a step. “I’d as lief na’ know of it, especially now that I’ve met you. I dinna’ wish to take a liking to you. All I wished to do was warn you.”

“Now, I’m certain that I don’t want to stay a moment longer.”

“It’s not to be taken lightly, lass. The clans are up in arms.”

“Over what?”

“You being a Sassenach and marrying a Highland laird. More specifically,
that
particular Highland laird.”

Elise’s heart might be the painful ball twinging at the pit of her belly. It also could have been the lump that moved to stick at the base of her throat, making swallowing difficult. She almost put her hand there.

“Explain, please.” She choked over the words.

“I just did. You’re a Sassenach.”

“Yes, I already know that part.”

“He was the chosen husband to my sister.”

“I know that part, too.”

“You knew he had a betrothed? Yet you still wed up with him?”

I wasn’t given the choice!
Elise almost said it aloud.

“You’re Sassenach all right. All pompous arrogance and crazed with power, with heads full of their own importance and such, and sporting a lust for bloodletting. As long as it is na’ theirs, that is.”

“This is ridiculous. I’m in a castle, surrounded by gentlemen and ladies. I am not listening to this. I’m not.”

“You like killing?”

“I’ve never harmed a thing in my life,” Elise replied.

“Then why did you do it?”

“Do what?”

“Wed up with him! Stir the clans! Have you nae concept of it?”

“I believe I’ve had enough of your company. You may leave. Bother that, I will.”

Elise moved as quickly as she could. She felt the dress sway a hairsbreadth of time behind her. His hand slammed against the wooden door at her temple, stopping her. She swiveled.

“You can’t continue this, you know. I’ll be missed. He’ll miss me.”

“You think I doona’ know that?”

“Then let me go. You don’t have to face his wrath.”

“Not until you understand.”

Elise took a deep breath to calm herself. It almost worked. “The last I heard, Scotland and England weren’t at war. Of course, I’m not one for politics, but there you have it. Colin and I met, fell in love, and then we wed. I don’t think my being English bothers him. I try to pretend the same about him being a Scotsman.”