Page 64 of A Touch So Wicked

Sir Brody’s words thrummed through Damian’s head like the blast of a trumpet long after he’d returned to his chamber. Instead of seeking his bed, he slumped in a chair, a snifter of brandy in his hand and his legs stretched toward the hearth.

Wed Elissa.

Utterly preposterous.

The king would never allow it.

He tossed the brandy to the back of his throat and swallowed noisily. Then he poured himself another. He was astounded that he even let himself consider such a ridiculous idea. His mind mired in indecision, he stared into the flickering flames until his head dropped forward and sleep finally claimed him. He awakened when the snifter dropped from his hand and shattered on the flagstone floor. Then he rose and fell fully dressed onto his bed.

The following days sped by much too quickly for Damian’s peace of mind. In a few days he and Kimbra would join in marriage before an assembly of Englishmen and Highlanders. As the appointed day approached, the more demanding Kimbra became. Nothing pleased her. She carped constantly about the food, the lack of simple luxuries, the remoteness of Misterly from London, and Damian’s lack of control over the servants.

Damian was losing patience with the woman he was expected to wed, bed, and get heirs upon. Her spitefulness was uncalled for and her boldness disgusted him. She sought him out like a bitch in heat, determined to seduce him. It wasn’t difficult for Damian to resist, for he knew her purpose, aside from the sexual aspect, was to persuade him to send Elissa and her family away.

For the past week Kimbra had been excessively demanding, ordering special food for the wedding feast, becoming loudly vocal about the decorations she favored, and declaring how she wished the wedding ceremony to proceed. Every available servant was cleaning and scrubbing and polishing, until the hall sparkled. And it was blatantly obvious that Kimbra took special delight in giving the most difficult chores to Elissa.

Because he wished for a peaceful coexistence with Kimbra, Damian tried not to interfere, but it was difficult to watch Elissa struggle with the chores Kimbra had assigned to her. A time or two he felt obliged to intercede and asked one of the men to take over Elissa’s duties when he found her on her knees scrubbing the solar stairs.

Damian’s nerves were stretched to the limit. The day before the wedding, he escorted Kimbra to her chamber for a private word. The moment the door closed behind them, Kimbra flung herself into his arms.

“I knew you’d change your mind, Damian.” Her fingers worked frantically at the buttons on his coat. “You want me and can’t wait to make me yours.”

Damian removed her busy hands from his person and held her at bay. “You’re wrong, Kimbra. I merely want to set you straight on a few things before we wed.”

Her lips turned downward into a pout. “Whatever do you mean? Don’t you want me?”

“I want Misterly,” Damian replied. “Since you’re included in the deal, I am obliged to wed you. You’ve sorely tested my temper these past weeks, Kimbra. Lord knows I’ve been more patient with you than you deserve. But heed me well, my lady, your behavior is unacceptable and I will not stand for it.”

Kimbra’s mouth dropped and her eyes rounded.

“I am master here,” Damian continued. “You will cease to destroy the peace I’m trying to preserve in my home. Your complaints are unfounded and your harsh treatment of Elissa and her kinsmen is intentionally cruel and unjust.”

Kimbra reared back as if struck. “How dare you! The king shall hear of this. You owe your loyalty to me, not to Jacobite traitors. When the king told me I was to become your countess, I was willing to come to this wilderness for the wedding, but I had no intention of removing myself from London society for good, or making my home in this savage country. ’Tis best that we settle this here and now.”

’Tis best if we don’t marry, Damian thought but did not say, for he had to wed Kimbra, whether or not he liked it.

“I must have an heir,” Damian said, grimacing at the thought of bedding the spoiled witch. “You will remain at Misterly until you give me one.”

Kimbra gave him a blinding smile, her avid gaze lingering on his massive chest, then sliding downward to his groin. “I will have no problem making love with you, Damian. Strong, forceful men excite me.”

“Are you a maiden, Kimbra?”

Kimbra flushed and looked away. “Of course, my lord, why would you think otherwise?”

Damian didn’t believe her for a minute, but time would tell. “I’ll make a deal with you, Kimbra. One that should satisfy both of us.”

“A deal, Damian?”

“Yes. After you give me a son, you can go your own way, live wherever you want, do as you please. But the child will remain with me.”

“Will you keep your mistress with you at Misterly?” Kimbra challenged contemptuously. “Do you think I’m blind? I know you’re bedding Elissa. That’s why you don’t want me.”

“You delude yourself, Kimbra. Since you’ve been here, you’ve done nothing but complain. You find fault with everything and are quite vocal about your contempt for Misterly and its people.”

“Misterly is not London,” she sniffed.

“My deal, Kimbra. Do you accept?”

She gave him a sly smile. “Only if you promise to send Elissa and her family away.”