Page 82 of A Touch So Wicked

“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.”