Connie Mason (3 page)

“Lora was born shortly after Father was slain at Culloden. She’s just five. Mama never recovered after the deaths of my father and three brothers and rarely leaves her room. She is verra frail.”

“Bloody hell! I had no idea. Nevertheless, their fate is for me to decide.”

Tension thickened between them as they stared at one another. Elissa felt shaken clear down to her bones. This impossible Englishman, her enemy, was affecting her in ways that were difficult to understand. Her anger was meager protection against the sensations swirling inside her. Intuitively she knew that once she let her guard down Damian Stratton would win. She had yet to discover what he would win but she feared it was more than she was willing to part with.

A commotion beyond the heavy oak door brought Elissa’s thoughts back to the problems at hand. She watched anxiously as her kinsmen filed inside the hall, followed by a small army of armed Englishmen.

“The Gordons were gone when we arrived at the church, Damian,” Dickon said. “We’ve brought the Frasers and their clansmen here as you directed.”

“Someone must have alerted the Gordons,” Damian said darkly.

Lachlan Fraser stepped forward. “I warned them.”

“Who are you?”

“Who are ye?” Lachlan asked curtly.

Ignoring the man’s insolence, Damian said, “Damian Stratton, Earl of Clarendon and the new Lord of Misterly, at your service.”

“I am Lachlan Fraser, yer lordship,” Lachlan said proudly. “One of the few men to survive Culloden.”

Damian admired the man’s honesty. “Why did you warn the Gordons?”

“I feared bloodshed, yer lordship,” Lachlan replied, “and thought it prudent to diffuse the potentially dangerous situation. I advised the Gordons to leave before yer men arrived. Tavis was reluctant at first, but decided to heed my warning when I told him ye had come with an army.”

“You were wise, Lachlan Fraser. Spilling blood is not the way to preserve peace. As the new Lord of Misterly, I intend to maintain peace in this remote corner of Scotland. Pray God there will be no need for bloodshed.”

Lachlan’s gaze shifted to Elissa. “What will become of Lady Elissa, Lady Fraser, and little Lora? They were much loved by our laird. Mayhap I should escort them to Glenmoor, to reside with their Macdonald kinsmen. Christy Macdonald was wed to an Englishman as a child and mayhap would offer shelter to her kinswomen. Christy and Elissa are verra fond of each other.”

“The king has made his wishes clear concerning Alpin Fraser’s widow and daughters,” Damian said. “They will be sent to St. Mary by the Sea Convent. I can make no other arrangements without the Crown’s approval.”

“Lord Alpin’s widow and youngest daughter are ill, yer lordship,” Lachlan protested.

“’Tis unfortunate, but I cannot gainsay the king.”

“Heartless wretch!” Elissa spat. “Slayer of women and children!”

Had Elissa known how close Damian was to locking her in the tower and throwing away the key, she would have been more prudent.

“I have never harmed a woman or child,” he rasped through clenched teeth. “However, I’m tempted to make an exception with you.”

Old Dermot quickly came to Elissa’s defense. “Donna touch the lass, me lord, lest ye wish to rile our kinsmen. If ’tis peace ye want, yer going about it the wrong way.”

Angry shouts of agreement followed Dermot’s words, and Damian feared he’d have a rebellion on his hands if he didn’t soften his stand. He needed the clan’s cooperation if he was to succeed at Misterly.

“Your lady is in no danger from me,” he vowed. “Misterly is your home; I need your full cooperation and loyalty for things to run smoothly. You’ll find me a generous landlord. Tithes will not be raised nor taxes increased.

“I hope to maintain peace without the use of force. But make no mistake,” he warned, searching the sullen faces staring back at him, “as the Lord of Misterly, I demand your respect. If I uncover signs of rebellion, I will not hesitate to retaliate accordingly.”

A spate of grumbling followed his words, but Damian was quick to note grudging approval for his pledge not to raise taxes and tithes.

“All I require is your cooperation and loyalty,” Damian continued.

“How can ye ask that of us when yer sending away Alpin Fraser’s widow and daughters?” Dermot argued.

“Hear me, good people,” Damian said, growing alarmingly short of patience. “I will tolerate no dissension. I am your lord and demand fealty. In return, you will be treated fairly.”

He waited a moment for that to sink in before announcing, “There will be no alliance between the Gordons and Frasers. The Maiden of Misterly, her mother, and her sister will make their permanent home at St. Mary by the Sea Convent. Return to your homes; I’ve said all that needs to be said.”

The assembly slowly, reluctantly, returned to their homes or duties amid much whispering and fearful glances at the Demon Knight. Damian stopped Lachlan before he could join the exodus.

“A word with you, Lachlan Fraser.”

Lachlan stopped dead in his tracks. “Aye, yer lordship?”

“Obviously you and your clansmen don’t agree with my acquisition of Misterly and your kinswomen’s fate.”

“Aye, ye have the right of it.”

“’Tis not my decision, Lachlan,” Damian explained. “Tavis Gordon is an outlaw and a rebel. He wants to renew a war that was lost long ago. The Crown is justifiably opposed to an alliance between the Gordons and Frasers. ‘Twould be disastrous to the tenuous peace that prevails in the Highlands. Lady Elissa cannot be allowed to wed Tavis Gordon. The only way to prevent such an alliance is to send her where she is out of Gordon’s reach.”

“I can understand England’s concern,” Lachlan admitted. “Highlanders have ever been vocal about their hatred for yer countrymen. Can ye blame them? But why should Alpin Fraser’s widow and daughters be punished?”

“They are
not
being punished,” Damian maintained. “They are merely being sent to a safe haven. I must obey my king in this. You have my word that no harm will befall them.”

“The Frasers will hold ye to yer word, yer lordship.”

Damian dismissed Lachlan with a nod of his head.

Elissa had heard enough. Nothing the Demon Knight had said was the truth. The English king wanted to punish the Frasers for their beliefs and had sent the Demon Knight to accomplish the deed.

“You lie!” Elissa charged. “The Demon Knight isna known for his mercy. Sending Mother and Lora to the convent is…is inhuman.”

“They will not suffer,” Damian argued.

Elissa stiffened her spine. She had naught to depend upon but her own wits. Sparring with Lord Damian was a frightening prospect, yet strangely exhilarating.

“What now, my lord? Will you rouse my mother and sister from their sickbeds to send them away?”

Damian’s black scowl sent a shiver down Elissa’s back. The new Lord of Misterly appeared short on patience. How far could she push this hard, ruthless man before he retaliated? she wondered.

“I will make my decision after I’ve seen your mother and sister, lady. I know enough of sickness to distinguish between a life threatening illness and an imagined one. Lead the way, lady. I will speak to your mother now.”

“Nay! She couldna survive the shock.”

“Follow me, me lord, I will take ye to Lady Marianne.”

“Nan! How could you?” Elissa exclaimed.

Damian looked down his nose at the old hag hovering at Elissa’s elbow. “Who are you?”

“Nan is my nursemaid,” Elissa explained. “She lives in the keep and tends the hurts and illnesses of our kinsmen.”

Damian made a thorough inspection of the diminutive old woman while her keenly intelligent blue eyes studied him in return.

“Very well, Nan, take me to Lady Marianne.”

“Nan! No! Can you not see that he means us harm?”

“Nay, lass, the dark lord will nae harm yer mam. Dinna I tell ye there would be no wedding? Mayhap next time ye’ll heed me. The Englishman will judge fairly after he sees for himself how ill yer mam and sister are. Follow me, yer lordship.”

Elissa cringed as Damian grasped her arm and pulled her along with him. “At least someone is showing good sense,” he muttered.

They climbed a circular stone staircase to the solar. Nan stopped before a closed door, then gave Damian a piercing look. “Elissa should prepare her mam before ye barge in.”

Damian hesitated a moment, then nodded. “Lady Elissa may have a few moments alone with her mother.”

Elissa jerked free of Damian’s grasp, opened the door, and slipped inside the chamber.

Lady Marianne Fraser lay propped up in bed against several pillows, her paleness relieved by two red spots beneath her cheekbones and the brilliance of her green eyes. She lifted a frail hand in greeting.

“Elissa, my love, how fetching you look. Where is your bridegroom? Have the festivities begun? Ah, how I wish I could attend the celebration.”

Elissa took her mother’s fragile hand in hers and knelt beside the bed. “How are you feeling, Mama?”

Marianne searched her daughter’s expressive face. “Something is amiss. What is it?”

“Oh, Mama, so much has happened since I looked in on you early this morning. I fear it will upset you.”

Marianne’s perceptive green eyes did not stray from Elissa’s face. “I am not as ill as you think, Elissa. In fact, I’m growing stronger every day. Tell me what’s wrong so that I may help you.”

Elissa feared her mother was being overly optimistic about her state of health. Marianne had been sick for years with a vague illness that seemed to be sapping her strength. Nan said Marianne had lost the will to live and Elissa feared it was true.

“Has Tavis Gordon done something to upset you? I told your father I dinna like the man. He wasna right for you. The marriage hasna been consummated, we will ask for an annulment.”

“Oh, Mama,” Elissa said, choking down the lump in her throat, “if only it were that simple. There was no wedding. An English lord arrived this morning with a small army. Misterly has a new lord. Our home is lost to us.”

“Why now?” Marianne asked in a tremulous voice. “’Tis been five years. I had hoped the English had forgotten us.”

“Those bastards have long memories. They left us in peace because our holdings were of little value to England. But that changed once they learned I was to marry Tavis Gordon. The English fear that uniting the Gordons and Frasers will disrupt peace in the Highlands.”

“’Tis Tavis Gordon’s fault,” Marianne said bitterly. “He’s been plotting ever since Culloden. The English are right to fear the consequences should Tavis Gordon recruit large numbers of Highlanders, including our own clansmen, to his cause. I donna condone what the English did to us, but neither do I want more bloodshed. I’m sick unto death with war.”

Marianne wrung her hands. “What are we to do? Lora isna well enough to travel. Her poor lungs are still weak. Does the English lord intend to turn us out of our home?”

“The English lord will do whatever is necessary to keep peace,” Damian said from the doorway.

Damian walked into the chamber, searching Lady Marianne Fraser’s face for signs of illness, and found them. The lady was indeed ill, which made his task all the more difficult. Her lively green eyes were huge in her pale face, and her frail body barely made a swell beneath the bedcovers.

Damian was somewhat surprised to learn that Lady Fraser appeared younger than he had assumed her to be, despite her illness…no older than thirty-five or -six, if he was any judge. She must have married young to have a daughter Elissa’s age, and Elissa looked to be somewhere between eighteen and twenty.

“Elissa tells me you’ve been ill, madam,” Damian said.

“I’m getting better,” Marianne replied. “I understand you’re the new Lord of Misterly.”

“Aye, madam.”

“What’s to become of me and my daughters, my lord?”

“The Demon Knight is sending us to a convent, Mama,” Elissa spat, sending Damian a hate-filled look.

A small gasp escaped Marianne’s throat. “You are the Demon Knight, my lord?”

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.”

Damian scowled. Wherever did the child get that idea? Before he could answer, Nan said, “Lord Clarendon is a great knight, lass, he wouldna hurt ye.” Her fierce expression dared Damian to challenge her.

“You are safe here, child. You and your mother will remain at Misterly under Nan’s care.”

Lora’s relieved look was quickly replaced by one of concern. “What of Lissa, my lord? Ye dinna mention her.”

Damian was at a loss for words. He didn’t know how to speak to children, especially when it came to conveying unwelcome news. “Perhaps your nurse had better explain. I have duties to attend and business to conduct.” He nodded curtly and made a hasty exit.

“What did the English lord mean?” Lora asked, staring at Damian’s departing back.

“Donna trouble yerself, dearling,” Nan soothed. “When all is said and done, Elissa will have the happiness she deserves. Demons can be tamed, and yer sister has a will nearly as fierce as the new lord’s. They will have a long road with many pitfalls to travel, but ‘twill be worth it.”

“I donna understand,” Lora complained. “Should I be frightened? I know your ‘voices’ tell you things. What do they say?”

“I canna explain, for sometimes my ‘voices’ are confusing, lassie, but I promise ye will come to nae harm.”

Irritation rode Damian when he returned to the great hall and found Highlanders and Englishmen in open confrontation, separated by an invisible wall of animosity. Damian strode into their midst, hands on hips, a scowl darkening his brow.

“I will countenance no hostility in my home,” he roared over the spate of angry outbursts between his English retainers and the Highlanders. “I expect everyone to treat each other with respect. I have appointed Sir Brody my steward. Take your complaints to him and he will convey them to me if they warrant my attention.” He motioned Sir Brody forward so the Frasers could identify him.

“Life at Misterly will change little,” he continued. “We must all work together to maintain a peaceful existence. Who has charge of the stores?”

Lachlan Fraser stepped forward. “That be me, yer lordship.”

“Very good. I want a complete inventory of foodstuffs, materials, and tools. I need to know whether the grain bins are full or empty, and what you expect the yield and condition of this year’s crops to be.”

Lachlan gave Damian a sullen look but nodded his compliance.

“Who is in charge of arms?”

“We have nae weapons,” Dermot said.

“We do now,” Damian retorted. “Thomas, come forward.” One of Damian’s mercenaries pushed through the throng. “You will act as master of arms. I’m sure there’s an armory somewhere in the fortress. Sir Richard, you’re in charge of security and billeting. I want guards posted in the gatehouse and on the walls at all times.

“One more thing,” Damian said before dismissing everyone. “My table will be open to everyone, Frasers and Englishmen alike. Those who take meals in the keep will be expected to do so without dissention. There
will
be peace at Misterly.”

Once the hall cleared, Damian strode to the kitchen in search of the cook. A rotund woman of middle years looked up from the pot she was stirring when he entered, a startled expression on her face.

“Are you the cook?”

“Aye, I be Winifred.” She pointed a spoon at another woman standing beside a bleached wooden table. “And this be Vera, me helper.”

Damian nodded in curt acknowledgment. “You are to go about your duties as before. Just remember that you will be cooking for larger numbers now. Tell my steward your needs when they arise and he will take care of them.”

Later that day, Damian rode out to speak to the shepherds. He was pleasantly surprised at the size of the flocks dotting the nearby hills and valleys. Misterly would not want for fresh meat during the winter months. And judging by the look of the fields, there would also be sufficient grain to feed hungry Frasers as well as his own men. With the fresh game his hunters would bag, he didn’t expect a shortage of food in the near future.

While Damian was engaged elsewhere, Elissa knelt at her mother’s bedside, their voices hushed as they spoke together.

“I canna bear a separation,” Lady Marianne bemoaned. “You and Lora are all I have left. I donna care about Misterly, ’tis you and your sister I worry about. What will become of you, dear one? ’Tis cruel, so verra cruel.”

“I’m not going to the convent, Mama,” Elissa whispered. “He canna make me go.”

Concern darkened Marianne’s eyes. “’Tis dangerous to thwart the Englishman. He looks to be a hard man. I donna want to see you hurt.”

“I’ll be careful, Mama. When everyone is sleeping, I’m gong to leave the keep through the tunnel and make my way to Tavis’s stronghold. I canna bear the thought of being cloistered within the walls of St. Mary’s. Tavis is right, Mama. We must band together and fight English oppression.”

“Nay, daughter. We have seen too much bloodshed already. Did Culloden teach you naught? Our loved ones have been taken from us forever.”

Elissa hardened her heart against her mother’s pleas. She had to escape. She’d be of no help to anyone in a convent. With Tavis’s support, mayhap she could return Misterly to the Frasers and send the Demon Knight fleeing back to England.

“My mind is made up, Mama. I’m leaving tonight. I’ll try to send word when I reach the Gordon stronghold.”

“Promise you’ll bid your sister good-bye before you leave,” Marianne begged. “Lora will miss you dreadfully.”

“I promise,” Elissa said. Tears blurred her eyes as she kissed her mother on the forehead and quietly retreated.

A few moments later she entered Lora’s chamber and closed the door behind her.

“Lissa! I’m so glad you’re here. Nan said there was no wedding. I’m ever so sorry.”

“’Tis all right, sweeting,” Elissa said. “You must concentrate on getting well. I have to leave, but Nan will take good care of you while I’m gone.”

“You’re leaving?” Lora cried. “Donna go, Lissa. I’ll be lost without you. Who will protect me from the dark lord?”

“I have to go, Lora, but donna worry. Lord Clarendon has promised to care for you and Mama and I…believe him.” Elissa prayed she wasn’t placing trust where she shouldn’t.

“When are you leaving?” Lora asked on a sob.

“Tonight, after everyone is asleep. Be brave, sweeting. I willna abandon you forever.”

Unable to withstand Lora’s pitiful sobbing, she kissed her sister and quickly left.

Elissa decided not to take the evening meal in the hall and asked Nan to bring a tray to her chamber. She was packing a small knapsack for her flight when someone rapped sharply on the door.

“Is that you, Nan? Come in.”

The door opened. “Nay, ’tis Maggie. Lord Damian requests yer presence in the hall.”

Maggie was one of Elissa’s kinswomen from the village who served in the keep. Elissa closed the knapsack and slid it out of sight under the bed. “Tell him I’m not hungry.”

“He said he willna take no for an answer.”

Rather than arouse Lord Damian’s suspicion, Elissa decided to honor the request. She saw him sitting at the head of the table when she entered the hall, his silver eyes fastened on her with brooding intensity. Head held high, she deliberately made her way to one of the long trestle tables and slid in beside Dermot. She paid scant heed to the Demon Knight’s sour look as she placed food on her plate and made a pretense of eating.

From the corner of her eye she saw Lord Damian rise and stride purposely toward her. Her heart began to pound when he stopped behind her and placed his hands on her shoulders.

“Your place is at the head of the table,” he said.

She swiveled her head around to glare at him. “My place is with my kinsmen.”

“You made me a promise,” he reminded her. “Do as I say and your loved ones will remain safe.”

“Donna threaten me before my kinsmen, my lord.”