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BOOK: Connie Mason
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A tear slipped from Marianne’s eye and Elissa was immediately contrite. “Forgive me, Mama, I dinna mean to burden you.” She leaned forward and kissed Marianne’s forehead. “You’re tired, I’ll leave you now.”

“Promise you willna do anything foolish,” Marianne pleaded. “Think about what’s best for our kinsmen. Lord Damian isna so bad. Sir Brody says Misterly is prospering under his guidance.”

“I promise, Mama,” Elissa said guardedly.

Elissa hurried to her chamber and donned a dark, hooded cloak. Glancing out the narrow window, she saw the moon slip behind a bank of clouds. She smiled. It was time. Damian should be in his chamber and the soldiers in their barracks.

There was a guard in the hall but Elissa was able to duck past him and into the passageway leading to the kitchen. Dimly Elissa wondered if the guard had been posted because Damian had found the tunnel. But right now she had other things on her mind.

The kitchen fires were banked and no one was about. She opened the back door and slipped outside, stumbling through the kitchen garden to the stables. She entered the shadowed building, redolent with the soothing scent of horses and leather, and paused to get her bearings. A surprised gasp left her lips when a strong arm snagged her around the waist.

“What kept you?”

“Tavis, you scared the daylights out of me.”

He pulled her to the darkest reaches of the stables before speaking.

“Did anyone see you?”

“Nay. What are you doing at Misterly? What do you want of me?”

“I would think ’tis obvious,” Tavis murmured against her ear. “You’re my betrothed.”

“I…I’d hoped you still thought of me as your betrothed. Oh, Tavis, so much has happened since the day we were to wed.”

“Naught good, I suspect. There’s a way we can be together, lass, like your father intended.”

Elissa was doubtful but willing to listen. She needed to get away from Damian’s none too subtle seduction as soon as possible. “Have you come to take me away with you?”

“Not just yet, lass. There’s something verra important you can do for me and for our kinsmen who lost their lives at Culloden.”

“What can I do, Tavis? I’m not free to come and go as I please. Someone is always watching me.”

“Aye, the Demon Knight is watching you.” His voice dripped with malice. “I saw you with him today. He’s hot for you, lass. We can turn his lust for you against him if you follow my orders.”

Elissa’s smooth brow furrowed. “How so?”

Though she could not see Tavis’s face, she could sense the venom festering inside him.

“By giving yourself to him, then killing him when he’s most vulnerable. We’ll take care of the others. I’ve dedicated my life to killing Englishmen and chasing the survivors back to English soil. The Gordons and Frasers and their allies are in a position to become a major force in the Highlands again. Once Damian Stratton is dead and Misterly mine, I’ll make the fortress impregnable to English attack.”

Elissa found it difficult to catch her breath. How could Taviss suggest such a plan…and such a role for her in it? Was so much killing and death necessary? She wanted Misterly back, but not at the expense of her kinsmen’s lives…or Damian’s.

“The Demon Knight fancies you,” Tavis continued. “I’ve seen it with my own eyes. Has he had you yet?”

“Tavis!”

“Forgive me, lass, but you are the only one who can maneuver the Englishman into a vulnerable position, and ’tis best accomplished in his bedchamber.”

Elissa went still. She felt numb, betrayed. Her own betrothed wanted her to bed the enemy.

“You want me to slay Damian? In cold blood?”

“Aye. Do whatever it takes, for no Highlander will judge you harshly.”

“You want me to let him bed me,” she repeated, wanting desperately to understand, “and then kill him?”

He grasped her arms, his desperation palpable. “Heed me, lass, ’tis the only way. The Demon is a wily and skilled soldier, he’ll kill too many of us before he’s brought down. You are the only one who can get close enough to kill him.”

“Nay!”

“Have you forgotten that your father and brothers lie rotting in their graves? Or that Gordons and Frasers and their brave kinsmen were slain at Culloden?

“Now think about the man who calls himself Lord of Misterly. He was at Culloden; mayhap he killed your kinsmen. He might have dealt the fatal blow to one of your loved ones. You have to do it, lass. For your clan, for your honor.”

Elissa mentally retreated. Her relationship with Damian might be volatile, but she couldn’t kill him. “I canna.”

“Here, take this knife. Hide it in your clothing. The deed must be done soon. Tonight and each night afterward, I will be watching from the forest for your signal.”

“What signal?”

“Has the Demon taken the north tower for his own?”

“Aye.”

“Verra good. After you kill him, hold a lighted candle before the open window. That’s the signal for us to remove ourselves to the unguarded postern gate and wait for you to let us in. You’re smart, lass, you should have no trouble sneaking from the keep to open the gate for us. Once inside, we’ll spread out and kill the guards and sleeping soldiers. Finding the enemy within the keep and their lord dead will create a confusion that will defeat them in the end. We will slay them before they can arm themselves.”

Numb with disbelief, Elissa closed her eyes and whispered. “I canna do it.”

“You must! Here,” he thrust the knife into her hand, “take the knife. I will be waiting for your signal.”

Despite her reluctance, Elissa’s hand curled around the handle. Her eyes flew open. “Nay, I willna have their blood on my hands.” But when she tried to give the blade back to Tavis, he had disappeared.

Elissa shuddered. She couldn’t do it. She wouldn’t. Tavis was mad to demand such a thing of her. She wanted Englishmen on Scottish soil no more than he did, but what Tavis asked of her was murder and beyond her capability. Disturbed by the startling turn of events, Elissa returned to the keep in a daze. When she reached the kitchen door, she entered as stealthily as she had exited and made her way to her bedchamber.

Elissa collapsed on the bed, her mind in turmoil. A long time elapsed before she found the energy to rise and remove her cloak. With mounting horror, she realized she still clung tightly to the knife Tavis had thrust into her hand.

Uttering a cry of dismay, she flung the knife away. It landed on the floor with a metallic clunk. The sound seemed to snap her out of her confused state. She retrieved the knife and looked about for a place to hide it. In desperation, she thrust it beneath her mattress.

Elissa tried not to think about Tavis Gordon the following day. She went about her duties and refused to answer her mother’s questions about her meeting with Tavis. Another day passed. Then another. And each day she tried to avoid Damian lest he grow suspicious of her distraction.

Elissa was sharing lunch with her mother when Marianne said, “You seem distraught, daughter. Does it have anything to do with Tavis Gordon? What did he want with you? I hoped you’d tell me about your meeting with him without my asking.”

“Tavis merely wanted to…to ask how we were faring.”

Marianne rolled her fine green eyes. “I donna believe you. Is Lord Damian troubling you, then?” She searched Elissa’s face. “Has he done something to offend you?”

“His being here offends me,” Elissa said fiercely. Her voice gentled. “Donna fret, Mama. Naught is wrong. I am fine. I’m merely anxious for you to get well enough to leave before Lord Damian discovers the tunnel. He’s been actively searching for it.”

“Do you really want to leave, dearling?”

Elissa would do anything to escape Damian’s sensual allure. “Aye, ’tis what I want.”

“Then I shall endeavor to rise from this bed and get strong enough to flee with you and Lora.”

Elissa’s eyes lit up. “Oh, Mama, I want you well for myself and Lora, as well as for your own sake, for I willna leave Misterly without you.”

“Tomorrow I shall ask Maggie to help me walk about a bit so that I may strengthen my legs.”

“I love you, Mama,” Elissa said, giving her mother a quick hug.

Suddenly the door opened and Lora burst through. “Mama! Damian let me ride his horse! Did you know Cosmo carried Damian in battle?” She cast a glance behind her. “Tell Mama how brave I was, Damian.”

Elissa froze as Damian appeared in the doorway. “I hope I’m not intruding, Lady Marianne.”

“Not at all, my lord. Please come in and tell me about my daughter’s adventure.”

Damian smiled at Lora. “Lora was very brave, indeed, and Cosmo acted like a perfect gentleman. I sat her before me and we took a turn about the courtyard.”

Elissa looked down when Damian’s silver gaze found her. Did her guilty expression give her away?

“Lady Elissa,” Damian said in a commanding voice. “A word with you in private, if you please.”

“Go, daughter,” Marianne said, “Lora and I will be fine here. You canna imagine how pleased I am to see her health improving. Thank you, Lord Damian, for your good care of her.”

“’Tis no trouble, my lady,” Damian said. “Now if you’ll excuse us, I would speak with Elissa.”

He guided Elissa out the door and down the corridor to her chamber. He opened the door and ushered her inside. He followed and shut the door firmly behind him.

“We shouldna be in here alone,” Elissa said, backing away.

“A private word is all I want.” His eyes darkened. “Though in truth I’d like much more from you.”

’Tis best accomplished in your bedchamber,
Tavis had told her.
Kill him. No one will blame you.
She couldn’t. Not Damian. He was so vibrantly alive. Let someone else wield the knife, for she couldn’t…wouldn’t.

“What do you wish to say to me, my lord?”

Damian sighed audibly. “Still stubborn, I see. Ah, well, in that case, I’ll state my business as succinctly as possible. ’Tis about your mother. She seems to be gaining strength. Do you not agree?”

Elissa was immediately suspicious. “Perhaps. Why do you ask? Do you still intend to send Mama and my sister to the convent?”

“’Tis what the king wishes, but I’m willing to delay the journey until Lady Marianne’s strength is fully restored. She seems to be much improved, for which I am grateful. I want no woman’s death on my conscience. I have grown fond of your sister and mother and believe they will be safe in the convent. The king’s arm is long, I want them where no harm will come to them.”

“What about me, my lord? Donna you wish me safe?”

A slow smile stretched his lips. “I can keep you safe, Elissa. Come to my bed and I will protect you from the king with my life.”

“I must refuse your offer, my lord. We both know the king will have his way whether you make me your mistress or not. Send me to the convent with Mama and Lora.”

Damian’s expression hardened. “So you can escape and wed Tavis? Nay.”

“Then we have nothing more to discuss, my lord.”

“We have a great deal to discuss. The least of which is the way you respond to my kisses. Why are you fighting the inevitable?”

Why indeed?
Elissa wondered. Tavis wanted her to bed Damian, but for a reason she couldn’t countenance. Did her refusal make her a traitor? She did not like the sound of that. She was a loyal Highlander. Killing a hated Englishman, the usurper of her home and lands, should not be a difficult task, so why did she balk when so many people depended on her?

“If you are finished, my lord, you may leave,” Elissa invited. His presence in her room was dangerous…and far too daunting.

A growl began deep in Damian’s throat as he grasped her waist and pulled her against him. She opened her mouth to protest at the same time Damian’s mouth slammed down on hers. His kiss was not gentle, but neither was it brutal. It was hot and hard and needy. And arousing. Her lips had just begun to soften beneath his when he broke away, a satisfied smile curving his mouth.

“You know where to find me if you want more, my lady,” he said with an arrogance that made Elissa’s teeth clench. He left her standing with her lips clamped together and rage seething through her. Insufficient rage, however, to convince her to kill him.

Later that day Elissa was walking through the great hall when Dermot intercepted her. He glanced about to see if anyone was listening, then whispered, “I have a message for ye, lass.”

“A message? From whom?”

He leaned close. “I saw Tavis Gordon in the village today. He told me to tell ye that time was running out. It has to be tonight. What did he mean, lass?”

“I donna know.”

“Yer lying, lass. I can see it in yer eyes. What is Gordon up to?”

She drew Dermot aside and whispered, “Tavis wants me to kill Lord Damian but I canna do it.”

“Thank God,” Dermot said fervently. “Yer not a killer, lass. How were ye expected to do the deed when the only time his lordship is vulnerable is when he is abed?”

Dermot’s eyes widened when the answer came to him. “If what I’m thinking is right, Tavis is demented for asking ye to compromise yerself.”

“Tavis is counting on me,” Elissa whispered.

Dermot searched her face, his own softening with compassion. “This has to be yer own decision, lass. I realize having an Englishman take what is yers is difficult, but ye are not the only Highlander to suffer such a fate. I willna be unhappy to see the last of the English soldiers at Misterly, but I donna wish to see another Culloden in my lifetime.”

“Nor do I,” Elissa said, “but neither do I want Englishmen on Fraser land.”

Her expression hardened. Could she do it? Could she go to Damian tonight and avenge her kinsmen?

Chapter Eight

The great hall emptied quickly after the evening meal. Sprawled on a bench before the hearth, Damian stared morosely into his freshly drawn pint of ale. Sir Richard sat across from him in silent camaraderie. Despite Damian’s distraction, he could tell Dickon had something on his mind.

“Is something bothering you, Dickon?”

Dickon cleared his throat. “Have you thought about returning the soldiers of the Black Watch to London? They are unhappy in the Highlands and wish to return to their former posts.”

“I have come to the same conclusion, Dickon. Things are well in hand here. We have seen neither hide nor hair of the Gordon clan and probably won’t. We can defend Misterly without outside help.”

“Things are certainly going your way,” Dickon allowed. “According to Maggie, Lady Marianne is recovering and young Lora’s health has already been restored. You must be looking forward to sending them to the convent.”

Damian wasn’t so sure. He’d miss Lora’s friendly chatter. And unlike Elissa, Lady Marianne didn’t hold him personally responsible for Culloden.

“Lady Marianne and Lora are not the problems in this household,” Damian muttered. “Lady Elissa could take lessons from them.”

Dickon grinned. “I take that to mean your seduction of her isn’t working.”

“Take it any way you please. The little vixen just won’t give up. How are you faring with your Maggie? Is she still resisting? ’Tisn’t like you to spend so much time on an unwilling wench, Dickon.”

“I could say the same for you, Damian. Mayhap I should try my luck in the village. Women are the same the world over—some are willing, others are not.”

Just then Maggie crossed the hall on some errand or other and nodded a greeting at the two men. Damian watched with amusement when Dickon leapt to his feet and ran after her. So much for Dickon’s plans to find a willing wench in the village.

The hour was growing late. Damian uncoiled his long form from the bench and sought his bed.

Freshly bathed and wearing a linen nightdress and robe, Elissa stared out the window. Was Tavis waiting for her signal? No matter how much he was counting on her, she couldn’t kill Damian. Could she? Did she have it in her? Hands behind her back, she began to pace.

Elissa doubted Tavis had come this far to give up. There was bound to be a bloody battle whether Damian was dead or alive. She wracked her brain for a plan short of murder that would aid Tavis. There was none. Tonight she would go to Damian’s chamber and let him have his way with her. Once he fell asleep…God help her.

Englishmen or no, Elissa objected to the murder of men in their beds. A bloodless coup was more to her liking but she knew of no way to make that happen.

Elissa drew the pins from her hair and ran her fingers through the fiery mass until it fell in thick, long waves down her back. In a dreamlike state she picked up a candlestick and left her chamber.

Her tread was light as she descended the winding staircase and across the deserted hall. Her heart was pounding erratically and her blood pumping furiously as she climbed the tower stairs. Her hand was trembling as she lifted it and rapped lightly on the door.

Damian didn’t answer immediately and she turned away, more relieved than she cared to admit. Then abruptly the panel opened. Larger than life and twice as threatening, Damian loomed in the doorway, his tall form barely covered by a robe tied loosely at the waist.

Damian’s startled gaze roamed leisurely over Elissa’s scantily clad body. He was scarcely able to believe his eyes, and surprise rendered him momentarily speechless. Elissa had come to him in her nightdress, her glorious hair down and her attitude meekly submissive. Submissive? Ha! He didn’t believe
that
for a minute. Everything Elissa did was suspect.

He leaned against the doorjamb, his arms crossed over his bare chest. “To what do I owe this pleasure?”

He swore when he saw a flash of anger in her eyes despite her calm voice and composed features. “If you donna want me, my lord, I can leave.”

Not want her? He’d have to be insane to let her leave now. He held the door open and stepped aside. She swept past him with regal grace, the scent of violets trailing behind her. Damian shut the door and leaned against it.

“Dare I hope you’ve suddenly found me irresistible?”

“You may hope whatever you please. I’m here. What more do you need to know?”

He reached for her and gathered her into his embrace. “No games this time, Elissa. There will be no pulling back, no maidenly protests. What we do in this room tonight will happen because ’tis what you want.”

He saw her eyes widen and sought to allay her fears. “’Tis what I want too, sweeting, have wanted for a very long time. The pleasure we share tonight is just the beginning. There will be many more nights like this one.”

He kissed her then, holding her head steady with one hand while his other curled around her hip, bringing her hard against the burgeoning thrust of his manhood. Her lips were moist and sweet, but he could taste her fear. Was he that frightening? Or was it something else? Once again suspicion rose like a dark specter between them.

“Relax, sweeting,” he whispered against her lips. “You do want this, don’t you?”

“Aye, I am here, am I not?”

He released the tie holding her robe together and waited for her reaction. It was nearly imperceptible, but he still felt the tiny quiver she tried to suppress. He peeled the robe down her arms and tossed it aside. Her nightdress was so voluminous she could have been shapeless beneath it, but Damian knew better.

She was staring at him, her green eyes translucent in the flickering candlelight. He returned her gaze, knowing his raw need shown in it. “Elissa, you
do
know how much I want you, don’t you?”

She nodded mutely.

“Then give yourself over to me. Let me lead you where you’ve never gone before.”

She relaxed in his arms, and he heaved a sigh of gratitude.

“Take me where you will, Damian. I’m ready to follow wherever this night leads.”

She sounded sincere, but Damian wasn’t the fool she thought him. Did she carry a weapon? Did she intend to kill him this time? She’d brought no drugged wine, so there would be no repeat of the last time she’d come to his bedchamber.

He dropped his arms and stepped away. “Take off your nightdress, Elissa, I want to look my fill at you.”

She hesitated so long, Damian drawled, “Shall I do it for you?”

Her head rose sharply. “Nay, I’ll do it.”

Damian literally shook with impatience. His sex rose thick and rampant between his thighs. She had barely lifted the hem of her nightdress when his patience snapped. Grasping yards of material in his hands, he pulled her nightdress over her head and off. Her hands flew up to cover her breasts but he grasped her wrists and anchored them at her sides. Then his heated gaze trekked leisurely over her tempting curves.

When he’d looked his fill, his gaze returned to her face. Her eyes were closed, her face was pale. He released her wrists, loosened the belt on his robe, and shrugged out of it.

“Open your eyes, Elissa.”

Her lids slowly opened. Her startled gasp reverberated loudly in the waiting silence.

“Aye, neither of us have anything to hide now. You’ve seen my body before. Does it please you?”

Please her? Elissa couldn’t begin to explain how his body affected her…how
he
affected her. Her mouth went dry. She couldn’t look away. She shouldn’t feel like this. She felt like a traitor to her people.

“Elissa, I asked you a question. Does my body please you? Yours pleases me.”

“Your body is…very fine, my lord,” she murmured, averting her gaze from his groin.

“So formal, Elissa? My name is Damian. I would like to hear the sound of my name on your lips.” He reached out and caressed her breast, his fingers lingering on the tip, which had suddenly become swollen and aching. “I think your body is very fine, too. I can’t wait to discover all its secrets.”

Circling his arms around her, he crushed her against him as his mouth tasted hers, lightly at first, then with growing ardor. He urged her lips apart and his tongue swept in to taste her more deeply. Heat shimmered through her in wild, intoxicating waves that made her yearn for more. Then came despair. She enjoyed his kisses too much. She liked the hot, delicious feel of his skin against hers, and the heady pleasure it brought her.

He cradled her between his legs, holding her fast with the long, thick muscles of his thighs. She felt the hard wall of his chest against her breasts and heard the accelerated pounding of his heart. His mouth was hard but his lips felt soft. A compelling combination. The thick ridge straining against her belly was daunting, and more than a little frightening. There was no way she could take him inside her.

Elissa knew exactly what to expect. The eve before she was to marry Tavis, her mother had told her what would happen on her wedding night. Marianne had told her not to fear it, and that in time she might even enjoy it. Instinctively Elissa knew she would enjoy it with Damian, and that thought angered her. She didn’t want to enjoy anything with the Demon Knight.

His kiss went on and on, until she hadn’t a breath left in her lungs. Her hand curled around his neck; she felt a vein pulsing strongly along his throat. The heat of his desire scorched a burning path to her throbbing center. Then suddenly she was floating, caught up in Damian’s strong arms. She felt the coolness of the counterpane beneath her back and Damian’s solid weight as he came down over her.

Air spilled from Elissa’s lungs at the first touch of Damian’s mouth upon her breast. He suckled her, flicking his tongue over her swollen nipple before paying her other breast the same rapt attention. She moved restlessly, stretching, arching beneath his stroking hands. He caressed her from her breasts to her waist, then cupped her bottom in both his large hands.

Threads of tension pulled her taut as his mouth left her breasts and traveled downward. Then his head dipped down and he kissed her
there,
that moist, aching place between her thighs. Pleasure she’d tried to withhold burst inside her. Her head tilted back, a cry vibrated in her throat.

“Damian, nay! ’Tis wicked.”

He lifted his head. “Aye, sweeting, wicked and wonderful. But perhaps you’re right. We’ll save that pleasure for another time. I need to be inside you.”

He settled between her legs, pushing them wide with his knees. His hips twisted; he ground himself against her core. A flush began beneath her skin, heating her flesh from the inside out. Her breath stilled as she waited for the pain of his entry. It was a pain she welcomed, for it was little enough punishment for allowing Damian to seduce her. She’d feel far less guilt if she didn’t enjoy what he was doing to her.

“Relax,” Damian whispered against her temple. “The pain will only last a moment, then the pleasure I promised will begin.”

His hand slid between them. She felt it low on her stomach, then drifting through the downy thatch below. He touched her; she let out a hiss of breath as his fingers slid over wet, swollen flesh.

“Sweet, sweet vixen,” he murmured. “My fingers are wet with your honey. Let me in, Elissa.”

His erotic words swept away her shame and guilt like a ship before a strong wind. Raw need inhabited her mind; urgency to experience this ultimate act with Damian, only Damian, controlled her body. She clutched his shoulders, her legs falling open. He settled deeper into the cradle of her thighs, flexed his hips, and thrust past every point of resistance.

Her eyes flew open. She screamed and tried to push him away. The pain of his entry had startled her, even though she expected it.

“Lie still,” Damian said in a strangled voice. “Let yourself adjust to my size.”

“You’re too big…you’re killing me.”

“The pain will subside if you let yourself relax.” He pulled out slightly, then pushed himself back inside.

Elissa squirmed, trying to escape the agony. “Stop, Damian, please.”

“Ask anything of me but that. Remember what I told you about bringing you pleasure? I didn’t lie, sweeting.”

He moved again, a subtle in and out that caused Elissa’s breath to hitch. He pulled out again, then thrust deeper. Elissa’s breathing calmed, and she experienced a feeling of fullness, of stretching, as her body adjusted to accommodate him. Little by little she began to relax; she felt herself soften around him even as he grew harder, thicker. Then she felt a tiny beginning of something else that made her gaze up at him, a question in her eyes.

“There are better things to come,” he said. Then he proceeded to show her.

He came up on his knees, putting his strong hands under her hips and pulling her up to meet his sure, hard strokes. She couldn’t help herself; she cried out with every drive of his hips. Then it began: the slow, spiraling heat, the heady pulsing where they were joined, spreading outward throughout her body. When he dropped his head and suckled her breast, it was like adding kindling to flame. With the next thrust of his hips, shards of pleasure exploded through her and she screamed.

Her body convulsed, tautened. He pushed himself to the hilt, held himself suspended inside her for a breathless moment, then came in a rush of liquid heat.

Elissa struggled to catch her breath, stunned by what she’d just experienced. Her surrender was supposed to be a sacrifice, but Damian had made the act memorable, something to be treasured forever. Her entire body trembled as waves of pleasure undulated through her. She was scarcely aware when he pulled out of her and eased down beside her.

Elissa turned her head away. She couldn’t look at him, knowing what she was going to do as soon as he fell asleep. She was going to betray him in the worst possible way.

Damian turned and gathered her into his arms. “Was that so bad, sweeting? Are you sorry you let me love you?”

“It was…I never dreamed…sweet Mother! You’re an Englishman.”

Damian grinned. “I never presumed to be anything else. Deny it all you want, but I
did
give you pleasure. You’re too inexperienced to pretend.”

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