Authors: A Touch So Wicked
“Bloody hell! I feel so useless.”
She helped him up the staircase and into their bedchamber, then eased him down on the bed. “Rest while I get something from Nan for your fever.”
Damian lay back on the pillow, angry with himself for inviting Gordon to his wedding. He had hoped his invitation would serve to end the hostilities between them, but he should have known better. Scotsmen were born stubborn. Damian realized Gordon would never forgive him for stealing his bride and seizing Misterly.
Elissa returned with a vile-tasting potion that Nan had brewed for him. He grimaced but obeyed when she held the cup to his lips and insisted he drink it all. He gulped it down and gagged.
“Are you trying to poison me, woman?” he gasped, shoving the empty cup away.
“Don’t be such a bear, Damian. Go to sleep. Mayhap Tavis’s luck will run out and Sir Richard will capture him. Will you hang him?”
A soft snoring sound rumbled from his chest. Elissa undressed both Damian and herself and stretched out beside him. Music wafting through the window from the courtyard lulled her to sleep.
Damian opened his eyes to the light of day, a loud pounding on the door and Sir Richard’s voice calling to him. He jerked upright and was immediately sorry. Pain shot through him; he clenched his teeth until it became bearable. Moving slowly, he pulled the blanket over himself and Elissa and granted Sir Richard permission to enter.
Elissa awoke and sat up, clutching the blanket to her chest. “What is it, Damian?”
“Sir Richard has returned.”
Dirt stained and disheveled, his eyes rimmed with fatigue, Sir Richard stepped into the chamber.
“Did you catch him, Dickon?”
“Nay. The bastard is canny as a fox. We found his stronghold, for all the good it did us. It was abandoned but for women and children. The men are tired and hungry. We’ll continue the search after we’ve eaten and rested, if that meets with your approval.” His gaze settled on the bandage Damian wore. “Are you all right, Damian?”
“I’m fine, Dickon. Get some rest, then we’ll decide our next step.”
Damian remained thoughtful after Dickon left. When he finally spoke, his voice was tense. “Are you sure Gordon doesn’t know about the secret tunnel? Or where it exits in the forest?”
“He doesna know,” Elissa persisted. “’Tis a family secret.”
Damian nodded. “I just wanted to be sure.”
Their attention was again drawn to the door. This time it was Nan, asking for admittance. When permission was given, she bustled into the chamber with her medicine chest tucked under her arm. “I’ll have a look at yer wound, me lord,” she said.
“’Tis fine, Nan.”
Elissa slipped out of bed, pulling the top sheet with her. Nan took a stance beside the bed, waiting impatiently for him to turn around. It was obvious she wasn’t going to leave until she’d had her way.
“You win, Nan,” Damian grumbled, rolling over on his stomach.
Nan plucked the bandage away and clucked her tongue. “There’s fresh blood on the bandage, but the stitches are still intact.”
Damian glanced over his shoulder at Elissa and noticed that she had dressed and was preparing to leave the chamber. “Where are you going?”
“To fetch our breakfast.” She opened the door and slipped away.
“Now that we’re alone, me lord,” Nan said in a hushed voice, “there is something I need to say to ye.”
Damian sighed in resignation. “What is it, Nan? Have your voices spoken to you again?”
“Mock me if ye will, me lord, but listen well. Trouble is brewing and I donna like where ’tis heading.”
Damian regarded Nan curiously, with a touch of apprehension. He knew better than to ignore the old crone. Her uncanny predictions often made sense. “What kind of trouble? Is this about Gordon?”
“Aye. Tavis Gordon is part of it, but ’tis more than that.” She tied off the clean bandage and placed a hand on his head. “Yer fever is gone. My brew did its work but ’tis best ye stay in bed today.”
Damian rolled over and sat up, wincing at the twinge of pain that shot through him. “Explain yourself, Nan, and start at the beginning.”
“My ‘voices’ whisper of an enemy who speaks ill of ye.” Her voice trembled. “I dinna want to believe it but they tell me Elissa will leave Misterly verra soon.”
“Nonsense,” Damian scoffed. “Elissa has no reason to leave me. She’s my wife now.”
“I dinna say the lass would leave willingly. All I know is that ye will soon be parted.”
“Nan!” Elissa said, rushing into the chamber with a tray balanced in her hands. “I heard what you told Damian. Donna plague him with your absurd predictions. ’Tis ridiculous to assume that Damian and I willna always be together.”
She set the tray on the table and held the door open for Nan, inviting her to leave. Nan snatched up her medicine chest and scooted past Elissa. “Ye always were a stubborn lass,” she tossed over her shoulder.
“Believe naught Nan said,” Elissa advised as she removed dishes from the tray and arranged them on the table.
“Are you sure we should ignore her?” Damian asked.
“Donna give her another thought. Those ‘voices’ she keeps hearing come from her imagination. Come and eat before the food gets cold.”
Damian rose naked from the bed and pulled a bench over to the table. “You must admit her predictions aren’t always wrong. She has an uncanny ability to predict things that makes my blood run cold.”
“’Tis babbling, nothing more,” Elissa dismissed as she spooned eggs and ham onto his plate. “Try a bannock. Winifred just took them from the oven.”
Damian attacked the food hungrily; Elissa ate more daintily but with the same good appetite.
“You should go back to bed, Damian,” Elissa suggested after they finished eating.
Damian rose and gathered up his clothing. “Don’t coddle me, sweeting, I’m fine. In fact, I intend to join the search for Gordon this morning. Help me with my weapons.”
“Is there nothing I can say to keep you in bed another day?”
“Nay. I want Gordon badly.”
Elissa found Damian’s sword and pistol and handed them to him. He buckled the sword around his waist, shoved the pistol into his belt, and placed primer, balls, and powder in his pouch.
“Kiss me good-bye, love.”
Dutifully, Elissa lifted her face. “A real kiss,” Damian said as he grasped her waist and lifted her into his crushing embrace. The kiss he gave her, and her heated response to it, nearly led them back to bed, but Damian steeled his resolve and reluctantly set her aside.
“Remember where we left off and we’ll finish it tonight,” he promised. Then he was gone.
Elissa helped the servants clean up the mess left by their wedding guests, then spent time with Lora, and later walked with her mother in the courtyard. Though she tried not to dwell on Nan’s warning, her mind kept returning to her aged nurse’s words.
Admittedly some of Nan’s predictions in the past had come to pass, but Elissa had always assumed they were simply coincidences. Was her marriage to Damian really doomed? Elissa hadn’t originally wanted this marriage, but now that she had finally accepted the fact that she loved an Englishman, she wanted their union to be a happy one. Damian had more honor in his little finger than Tavis Gordon had in his whole body.
Wedding Damian had finally put an end to all the years of hating Englishmen, of keeping the defeat at Culloden alive in her mind and heart years after the battle had been lost. It was time she laid the past to rest, admitted her love for Damian, and accepted her future as his wife.
Elissa wanted to believe Damian loved her but feared it was not true. She knew he cared for her on some level, for there was no other explanation for his stubborn insistence that she marry him. He had turned away Kimbra and the wealth she would bring to the marriage, and that had to mean something.
For whatever the reason, Damian had married her; they were now man and wife and she didn’t care what Nan said; she wasn’t going to be parted from him.
Damian returned to the keep exhausted and grim faced. Elissa had a bath prepared for him and helped him undress. His bandage was bloody and she removed it while the tub was being filled.
“You dinna find him, did you?”
“Not a trace,” Damian replied. “We found only women, children, and graybeards at his stronghold. I don’t make war on helpless people. We searched far afield but it was as if he had disappeared from the face of the earth. My gut tells me we haven’t seen the last of the Gordons.”
Sighing wearily, Damian sank down into the tub. Elissa knelt behind him and sponged his back. “Will you continue the search?”
“’Tis pointless. Gordon can disappear at will in the mountains, or he might even leave the area. I’ve instructed the guards to be extra vigilant. Thank God Gordon doesn’t know about the tunnel.”
“The tunnel is a well-guarded secret,” Elissa assured him. “One day we may have need of it.” She poured water over Damian’s head and rubbed soap into his scalp. “Would you like to eat in our chamber tonight? I can have a tray prepared.”
Damian gave her a wicked grin. “I was just going to suggest that. In days past a bride and groom closeted themselves and didn’t come out for a week.”
Elissa laughed. “Were they able to walk at the end of that week?”
“I don’t know, but I’m willing to find out if you are.”
Elissa fell back on her rump as Damian rose from the tub, splashing water on the floor. Before she had time to protest, he picked her up and carried her to the bed, tearing away her clothes in a fit of lustful fury.
She welcomed him with open arms and passionate kisses. Their loving became almost frantic as they both sought that high pinnacle where lovers dwelled. They loved, ate, and loved again. As Elissa fell asleep, she finally admitted to herself that she was happier than she had ever been in her life.
During the following weeks Damian gave Elissa no reason to alter her feelings for him. He pleased her in every way. Tavis Gordon remained at large but caused them no further trouble. Though Nan went about with a worried expression, Elissa chose to ignore her.
Elissa was so content that she gave scant heed to the arrival of a company of soldiers several weeks after her marriage. Her complacency was shattered, however, when she joined Damian at the front entrance to greet the new visitors.
“Welcome to Misterly,” Damian said. “What brings you to the Highlands?”
Elissa heard the tension in his voice and noted his grim expression, and a frisson of fear snaked down her spine. Intuition warned her that this was not a friendly visit.
The captain of the guard dismounted, his gaze moving past Damian to Elissa.
“Are you Elissa Fraser?”
Warning bells went off in her head. “Aye.”
Damian shoved her behind him. “What is this about?”
“Step aside, Lord Clarendon. We have orders to arrest Lady Elissa Fraser and escort her to London.”
Fear coursed down Damian’s spine. The soldiers were here to take Elissa away. “By whose order?” Damian asked, refusing to step aside.
“By order of the king,” the captain answered.
Elissa grasped Damian’s sleeve. “Damian, what do they mean?”
“Don’t worry, love, I’ll not let them take you.”
“You have no say in the matter, my lord,” the captain said.
“You don’t understand, Captain,” Damian tried to explain. “Lady Elissa is my wife.”
That seemed to surprise the captain but did not sway him from his purpose. “My orders come directly from the king. We will rest here overnight and leave with our prisoner at dawn tomorrow. Unless you guarantee that the lady will not flee, I will be forced to place her under guard.”
“I’ve done nothing!” Elissa cried.
“What are the charges?” Damian asked, struggling to keep the panic from his voice. He sensed Kimbra’s fine hand in this.
“Conspiring to commit treason against the Crown,” the captain replied.
Damian’s heart seized. “The charges are not only false, but ridiculous.”
“’Tis not for me to decide,” the captain replied. “Your hospitality is required for the night, my lord. Please make arrangements to feed and billet my men.”
Damian had no recourse but to step aside and allow the captain and his men to enter the hall. Sir Brody appeared at his side to take charge of the soldiers. Damian ushered Elissa into the hall and the captain followed.
Damian seated Elissa at the table and invited the captain to sit down beside him. “Now, then, Captain…”
“Harding,” the captain said.
“Shall we discuss the king’s order more fully, Captain Harding? There must be some mistake. My wife is not a traitor.”
“The king believes otherwise. My orders are to bring Lady Elissa to London to answer to the charges.”
“If I cannot talk you out of this, then I shall accompany my wife to London and defend her innocence.”
Captain Harding shook his head. “Nay, my lord. You are to remain at Misterly.”
Damian bristled. “By whose order?”
“Once again, by the king’s order.”
“Please excuse me, Captain Harding, I wish to speak to my wife in private. Sir Brody will show you to your chamber and inform you and your men when to return to the hall for the evening meal.”
“Do I have your word that the lady will not leave the keep?” Harding said.
Though it nearly killed Damian to do so, he gave his word.
Taking Elissa’s hand, he led her from the hall. Once they reached the privacy of their bedchamber, he took her into his arms.
“I can’t stop him from taking you away, love, but I won’t abandon you. I
will
do something about it, you can depend on it.”
“What can you do?” Elissa asked in a quavering voice. “Why has the king done this? He could have ordered me to London long ago. Why now?”
“Kimbra,” Damian hissed. “She must have filled the king’s ear with poison.”
“What about Mama and Lora? Will they suffer on my account?”
“Your mother and sister are safe here,” Damian promised. “’Tis doubtful Captain Harding even knows they exist!”
“Thank God,” Elissa said on a sigh. “But how can you help me if the king has forbidden you to leave Misterly?”
“I’d defy the king for you,” Damian murmured.
The strong emotions flaying Damian were so profound, the shock nearly sent him to his knees. Common sense told him he didn’t merely lust after Elissa, for his feelings went far deeper. Was love the sentiment he was experiencing? What else could it be? He wanted Elissa in his life, in his bed, in his arms, and he wasn’t going to allow the king to destroy what he’d found with her.
“If you disobey the Hanover you will forfeit Misterly,” Elissa reminded him.
His eyes glittered with determination. “Do you think I value Misterly more than I do your life?”
Elissa’s smile held a hint of regret. “You’ve given me sufficient reason to wonder.”
“Wonder no longer, love. Why do you think I married you?”
“Because you needed my clansmen’s cooperation.”
“Nay. Your clansmen didn’t enter into my decision. Misterly was mine whether or not I gained their loyalty. I wed you for myself, because I wanted you for my wife. I knew what I was risking and it mattered not.”
Elissa melted against him, her eyes misty. “I love you, Damian, and I always will. No matter what happens to us.”
Damian opened his mouth to speak but the words froze in his throat. He’d never verbally expressed love for a woman and wasn’t sure he was capable of admitting to so tender an emotion. What if it came out wrong? This was all so new to him. Instead, he kissed her with all the feelings that were in his heart, filling her with his breath, his unspoken love, passion, hoping they sufficed until he found the words to convey his true sentiments.
Elissa tasted love in his kiss…and something else: the gnawing tang of desperation. Fear clenched her gut. Despite his brave words, Damian was as worried as she. They both knew there was little he could do to change the king’s mind. She’d be punished for conspiring with Tavis Gordon even though she’d committed no treasonous act.
“Make love to me, Damian,” Elissa pleaded. “This could be the last time we’ll be together.”
“Gladly, but it won’t be the last time, sweeting.” He grasped her shoulders. “Listen to me, Elissa. We’ll be together again. Do you trust me?”
“Aye, but it will take more than trust to save me. Nan predicted we would be parted. We should have listened to her.”
“To what purpose? Neither of us knew King George would order you to London, and Nan offered naught but an obscure warning.”
“We have what’s left of today and tonight,” Elissa murmured. “I donna want to waste it talking.”
She pulled his head down, rose on tiptoe, and kissed him with all the passion and love within her heart. He groaned. She trapped it in her mouth and returned it on a breathless sigh. Wrapping his arms around her, he held her tightly, as if he never wanted to let her go. But before she could satisfy herself with the taste of him, he drew back and began kissing her throat as his hands released the hooks on the back of her gown. She felt the neckline sag, felt his lips following the curve of her breasts. Then her gown pooled at her feet. His eyes glowed like silver coins as he dragged her shift over her head and tossed it aside.
“I want to make love to you,” Elissa murmured against his lips.
She retreated a step, her smile seductive as she began to undress him. When he tried to help, she shoved his hands aside. “Nay, let me do it.”
She slid his jacket down his arms and unbuttoned his shirt. She stared at his bare chest, her eyes glittering. Then she dropped to her knees, placed her mouth on his nipple, and pulled on it.
“You’ll kill me if you continue,” he moaned.
She grinned up at him, then ran her tongue along the furrow of dark hair on his chest. But she wasn’t through with him yet. She pushed the shirt down his arms and off. Her tongue delved into his navel; she felt him shudder as he grasped her head and buried his fingers in her hair to hold her in place. Her smile rippled against the taut planes of his belly as her fingers began working loose the buttons of his trousers. In moments she had them free, tugging them down, freeing his swollen manhood.
She stared for a breathless eternity at the turgid head and the pearly drop clinging to its tip, then feathered her tongue across the silken surface.
“Bloody hell!”
Damian tried to lift Elissa to her feet but she wouldn’t budge. She gazed up at him, her eyes luminous, watching his face as she took him into her mouth. His expression was everything she could have asked for. Tormented, stricken, passion glazed. She tasted his pleasure and the scent of hot excitement on his skin.
“Enough!” he cried.
Before she knew it, Elissa found herself sitting at the edge of the bed, her legs spread wide and Damian kneeling between them. His wicked grin warned her he would allow no quarter as he buried his head in the vee between her legs and proceeded to pleasure her in the same way she had pleasured him, his mouth and tongue moving intimately over her slick, swollen flesh. There was no denying him. Elissa clutched a fistful of bedclothes in both hands and succumbed to mindless abandonment.
Her climax was still thrumming through her when he pushed her flat on the bed and thrust inside her, deep, so very deep she had to bite her tongue to keep from shrieking aloud as her pleasure intensified. She held him against her, savoring the hot, wet thrusting of his shaft inside her, the luscious heat of their bodies clinging as they rode the peak together. She felt herself ascending to a new level of excitement, her passion rising once again to meet his demands.
With every muscle locked so tight she was shivering, Elissa shattered. In the dim recesses of her mind she heard Damian shout her name and felt his wet heat filling her. They rested, then loved again. Nothing mattered…not Captain Harding nor those below in the hall waiting for them to appear for the evening meal; their time together was too short and the thought of parting too painful.
Elissa couldn’t hold back the dawn, no matter how desperately she wished to. She arose at daybreak and packed clothing for her journey in a small satchel. She was startled when Damian leaped from bed, grasped her shoulders, and said, “We could leave by way of the secret tunnel and board a ship for France. I could have my men create a disturbance, drawing attention away from the hidden door while we make good our escape.”
Elissa gave him a sad smile. “Nay. I wouldna ask that of you and I canna leave Mama and Lora behind. There’s virtually no hope of getting us all out together. Dragging Mama and Lora about the countryside with winter coming on would harm their health. Besides, you gave your word that I wouldn’t try to escape, and I know how you value your honor.”
Damian’s shoulders slumped. “I do value my honor, but this is different! This is your life we’re talking about.”
“I have to believe the king will show mercy.”
“It depends on how far Kimbra stretched the truth.”
“Do I have time to bid my mother and sister goodbye?” Elissa asked.
“If you hurry. Captain Harding is probably eager to leave. I’m surprised he didn’t come up here last night to check on us when we didn’t appear for the evening meal.”
As if to reinforce his words, Captain Harding pounded on the door. “Lord Damian, ’tis time to leave. Send out the woman.”
“We’ll be down directly, Captain,” Damian answered.
“Now,” Harding demanded.
“My wife isn’t ready yet.”
“Damian, what about Mama and Lora?” Elissa whispered. “Do you think the captain will let me see them?”
“I’m assuming Captain Harding doesn’t know about them. Calling attention to them now would be unwise. I’m sorry, sweeting.”
“I understand,” Elissa said, swallowing her disappointment. “I’d never forgive myself if I placed them in danger. Tell them I love them and explain what happened.” She squared her shoulders. “Open the door. I’m ready.”
“Just remember,” Damian said, “I won’t abandon you.”
Elissa threw her arms around his neck and choked back a sob. There was so much she wanted to say and so little time. They were able to share one final kiss before Damian opened the door to Captain Harding’s persistent pounding. But it was a kiss Elissa would remember till the end of her days. Sweetly passionate, agonizingly tender, and filled with promise, it was if they had renewed their wedding vows with that one kiss.
“It’s about time,” Harding grumbled, shuffling impatiently on the landing. He grasped Elissa’s arm but Damian retrieved it, placing it beneath his own.
“I’ll escort my wife to the hall,” he said in a voice that brooked no argument.
Arm in arm they descended the staircase. Harding followed close on their heels, carrying Elissa’s satchel that Damian had thrust into his hands.
“Damian, look,” Elissa cried when they entered the hall.
Damian halted. It appeared as if every Fraser from miles around had gathered in the hall. They stood together in small groups, speaking in hushed tones and glaring defiantly at the king’s soldiers.
Sir Richard pushed his way through the crowd. “Our men are poised to fight,” he whispered in a voice that only Damian and Elissa could hear. “You have but to give the word. And from the way the wind is blowing, the Frasers appear ready to join in the fray. They want to protect their lady, just as we do.”
Before Damian could reply, Elissa clutched his arm. “Nay! No one must die on my behalf. Donna give the order to fight, Damian, please.”
Damian summed up the situation in one sweeping glance. Captain Harding had joined his soldiers, prepared to give the order to retaliate should anyone attempt to interfere with their duty to king and country. Should a battle ensue, it would be a costly one.
“Nay, Dickon, there must be no bloodshed.”
Dickon blinked. “You would let them take your wife away without a fight?”
Elissa touched Dickon’s arm. “Damian has made the right choice, Sir Richard. I
must
go.”
“Surely you know I will not let the king get away with this travesty, Dickon,” Damian said earnestly. “I will do whatever necessary to set Elissa free. I have a plan, but I cannot act hastily. Know this, however—I’m going to go to London and petition the king on Elissa’s behalf.”
“If Damian says he will free you, my lady, then count on it. You can trust him with your life.”
“I do trust Damian,” Elissa replied. “If there is a way to help me, he will find it.” She tucked her arms through Damian’s. “You may escort me to Captain Harding now, my love.”
Damian’s footsteps faltered, but Elissa held him on course. Damian thought her more courageous than any woman he’d ever known. Most women in Elissa’s situation would be weeping hysterically, but not his wife. Her faith in him humbled him. She trusted him to rescue her, and so he would.
Watching Elissa mount her mare and ride away was the most difficult thing Damian had ever done. Though she looked calm, Damian could tell she was frightened. When she’d turned to look at him over her shoulder as she rode off, her face had already begun to crumble.