Page 10 of A Touch So Wicked

Damian slanted Elissa a quelling look. “You have naught to fear from me, madam. You and your daughters will be safe at St. Mary by the Sea.”

“Nay! Can you not see that my mother is too ill to travel?” Elissa cried. “Have you no heart? No compassion?”

Damian’s face hardened. “I cannot afford maudlin sentiments, lady. I have not the necessary wealth to be ruled by my emotions. I’ve fought hard for everything I’ve earned in my life, and I’m not going to lose Misterly because I failed the king.”

“Of course you must obey your king,” Marianne conceded with fatalistic calm, “but I fear neither Lora nor myself is able to sit a horse. If you would be so kind as to prepare a litter, I will be most grateful.”

“Nay!” Elissa protested. “We need at least a week to prepare for a journey. Only a heartless monster would force a sick woman from her bed.”

Unaccustomed compassion softened Damian’s inflexible stance. He couldn’t in good conscience send a woman in Marianne’s condition from her home, and he hadn’t even seen the child yet. This wasn’t good. Not good at all. There had to be some way to circumvent the king’s orders without sacrificing Misterly and the culmination of all his dreams.

The idea came to him while Elissa was berating his cruelty and implacable nature. Since Elissa was the one the king wanted out of the way, Damian saw no need to punish her sick mother and sister.

“Still your poisonous tongue, lady,” Damian warned harshly. “I will accede to your wishes concerning your mother and sister if you will agree to my terms.”

Elissa stared at him, her green eyes narrowing suspiciously. “Terms, my lord? What terms would those be?”

“Merely this. Your mother and sister may remain at Misterly under Nan’s care if you go to the convent peaceably, without rousing your kinsmen to open defiance.”

“How do I know you willna hurt my mother and sister once I am gone?” Elissa challenged.

Damian hung onto his temper by a slim thread. “My word is my honor. Your family will be cared for as long as I am Lord of Misterly. I will not send them to the convent until both are fully recovered.”

“Verra well, then, I’ll go.” The lie came easily to her lips. She’d promise anything if it helped her loved ones.

“How wise of you,” Damian said sarcastically. “You may have today to bid your family good-bye, but I expect you to be ready for travel at first light tomorrow.”

Though Elissa nodded her acquiescence, Damian could tell by her belligerent stance that she wasn’t happy about it. Truth to tell, he wasn’t all that pleased himself. This entire situation was becoming burdensome. He hadn’t anticipated the situation into which he’d been thrust, nor expected to find Lady Elissa so tempting. Were it not for the king, he’d take the lady to his bed and keep her until he tired of her…or the king found him a wife.

Damian found it difficult to remain indifferent to Elissa’s plight with burgeoning lust raging through him. She would be a virgin, of course. He’d never had a virgin—his tastes usually ran toward more experienced women—but with Elissa he would make an exception. She’d be small, but if he was careful, she could probably accommodate him. He stifled the groan rising unbidden from his chest. No matter how much he wanted her, he would never know her carnally; all he could do was wonder if she possessed a passion to match his own.

“Duty calls,” Damian said, nodding briefly at Marianne. “Say your farewells now, lady, while there is still time.”

Turning abruptly, he exited the chamber. As he strode down the hallway toward the stairs, he heard violent coughing coming from behind a partially open door. He paused, briefly debated with himself, then pushed the door open. His gaze settled on old Nan as she bent over a child lying in a bed much too large for her.

“Take yer medicine, sweeting,” the old woman crooned. “I’ll have ye out of this bed in no time at all, if ye do as I say.”

“It doesna taste good, Nan,” came a plaintive reply.

“Drink up,” Nan urged. “Yer going to need yer strength for what’s to come.”

“What’s happening below stairs?” the child asked. “Has the wedding party returned? I wish I could have attended.”

“Look out the window, lassie. ’Tis raining. The dampness isna good for yer wee lungs.”

“Is the Gordon laird going to live at Misterly?”

“Nay, Lora, the wedding dinna take place. A new Lord of Misterly arrived today. An Englishman. He wouldna allow the wedding to take place.”

“An Englishman!” A brief spate of coughing followed the child’s outburst. “Are we to be sent away, then? Where will we go?”

Damian knew little about children, and had never spoken to one if memory served, but he felt compelled to speak to Elissa’s little sister, if only to ease her mind.

He stepped into the chamber and cleared his throat. The child’s eyes widened and she clung to Nan with a tenacity that brought a scowl to Damian’s face. Was he that fearful to behold?

“You must be Lora, Lady Elissa’s sister,” he said, summoning forth a smile. The child was much like Elissa, Damian thought. Wide green eyes and burnished hair just a shade lighter than her sister’s wreathed a small flushed face that betrayed her illness.

“Are you the new Lord of Misterly?” Lora asked in a tiny voice. “Please donna kill us, my lord.”