Elise (20 page)

Mick was choking on the words and looking at Elise with such horror that she smirked. “I just told you he was.”

“And you said naught of it to the duke?”

“Oh, I had so much time for that in the stable building, now didn’t I? Don’t stand there like a dolt. Go and get an Honor Guard for Evan’s son. Worry about what His Grace says later! That’s an order.”

Elise couldn’t believe her eyes when Mick turned on his heels and ran from her. She glanced about quickly. Dressed as plainly as she was, no one seemed to be paying her any attention. Since she was also clad in calf-high boots that she’d been given that morning, the mud wasn’t a problem. She didn’t have any trouble getting around to the back of the carriage. She’d have called it luck, if she still believed in such a thing. What was it Roald had once penned? Nothing happens that isn’t meant to. They were going to be the words she lived by from now on.

She’d done what she had to, no matter the personal cost. She’d given Rory to them, and she’d made certain they knew who he was. There was nothing left to keep her. She didn’t even have to see Colin’s face when he found out.

She acted like there was nothing odd about taking a stroll to the edge of the woods. She knew the town of Glasgow awaited her on the other side of the trees, although she couldn’t see it, and Glasgow was well advanced, considering it was in Scotland. Elise should be able to access some of the Duchess of Wynd’s wealth. Even here, where it felt like the very ends of the civilized world, there was probably a bank willing to advance her Wynd funds, wasn’t there?

The foliage beneath her feet wasn’t as muddy or as damp as it was around the rail station. Elise hadn’t thought she’d be able to get away, and yet it was easy. She had to wait for her heart to calm, so she leaned against a tree.

The waste of time seemed stupid, but it was necessary. Colin would be searching for her, and he’d most likely look for her beyond the rail yard. He’d suspect she’d run. Any woman treated as she had been would be running. Elise forced herself to wait. A quarter hour passed, then another.

The woods about her were wet and quiet, instilling a sense of security. Although she was less than a hundred yards from the station, and all the MacGowan clan were there, it was still. Quiet. Safe. Elise had to hug herself to keep the joy inside. She was in charge of her own destiny again.

And she was almost free of Colin! Once she had seen a magistrate to make certain of it, anyway. She refused to decipher what the thick, hurtful pressure near her heart might mean. She felt nothing for Colin MacGowan anymore. He was as harsh and barbaric as his clime.

She’d forgotten about Daisy, though. Elise pushed from the tree and started walking, going down the gentle slope. She was going to have to wait to fetch Daisy. Rory needed the maid right now. Elise would send for her, once she was able to.

The forest floor was thick and wet. She appreciated the boots more the farther she walked. Her skirt was getting wet clear to the knees, but that couldn’t be helped. She couldn’t lift them. She had to use her hands to clear a path for herself.

The trees thinned, and she recognized rooftops through them. With any luck, she’d be in a warm bath, writing notes to her staff, before the sun set. Elise took another step, brushed aside foliage, and stopped, swaying back into place. She hoped her face didn’t show the severity of her disappointment.

The three MacGowan coaches sat on the roadway directly in front of her. Horses, their coats thick with unshed hair, milled about, and His Grace wasn’t hard to spot. He stood in his leisurely pose against the back wheel of his carriage.

Elise was starting to shake. She hadn’t realized how wet her outfit was becoming. From all about her, she could feel their censure. She did the only thing she could. She took a deep breath, lifted her head high, and stepped through the last of the greenery.

“It is lovely country, Your Grace, but a trifle damp,” she said loudly and unconcernedly, as she walked to his side.

“Get in. Now.”

He was livid. Elise didn’t need to look at him to know.

“Perhaps ...I’d best wait for assistance,” she stammered the words.

In reply, he gripped her about the waist, lifted her, and shoved her in. As much as she hid it from herself, the sensation from his touch had begun immediately. Why couldn’t it have been Sir Roald, or another of her men-friends? Getting that reaction from any of them would have been preferable to the Laird of the MacGowan!

Elise busied herself with arranging her skirts about herself. It wasn’t for effect, or to keep the wrinkling to a minimum, it was to put the driest sections against her legs. She wouldn’t let him know of it, though.

“We’ve more than two hours journey ahead of us. You’d best spend some of that time explaining, starting now. Right now.”

Elise ignored him and started rubbing her hands together for warmth. She’d been so stupid! She hadn’t waited long enough, and then she’d taken the direct path to Glasgow, when any woman in her boots would have done the same. She must not have wanted to escape.

Elise’s thoughts stalled.

I didn’t want to escape him?
That couldn’t be true. It was too ludicrous to consider. She put her hands to her face and blew warm air on them.

“Well?” The one word was harsh and biting.

“I’m not speaking to you, Your Grace.”

“Oh yes, you are. You’re na’ going to finish until you’ve explained everything.”

“Explanations are—” Elise started, but he interrupted her and filled the small enclosure with a slew of bitter words that wouldn’t stop.

“First, you’re going to explain what you’re doing with Evan’s son. You’re going to explain why you dinna’ tell me about him the very first moment you saw me. You’re going to convince me as to why you trapped me into a marriage. Even if we wed, the boy remains a bastard. You’re smart enough to know that.

“Then, you’re going to entertain me as to what it was that Evan saw in you. Ira? Yes. He always did know a good whore when he saw one. But Evan? Nae. Evan was intelligent. He was fastidious. He would na’ have given a woman like you his child, and then allowed you to carry it! We’ve got more than two hours in this bloody carriage, and you’re going to do a damn sight more than speak with me, woman!”

Elise had caught her breath in shock more than once throughout his speech, but she hadn’t interrupted. Her mind was in denial, but her ears heard every word. If she’d thought the space in her chest hurt before, she’d been a fool. It now felt like her heart was in someone’s fist, and every time it beat, they squeezed.

He hadn’t moved, but it felt like he’d grown in stature. Either that, or she was in serious danger of possessing an overactive imagination. His eyes weren’t green flecked or brown, either; they were an indecipherable shade of black. It was dim in the coach’s interior. Those strange dots hampered her vision again, too.

“I’m waiting, and I’ll na’ wait long. You doona’ do what you’ve done to me, or to Rory. You’re unfit to mother anyone.”

Elise wasn’t doing a good job of keeping her tears at bay. It could be due to her wet clothing, or her failure at escape. She could attribute it to her lack of sleep last night, or the experience of hearing what he thought of her. It could be a myriad of things. She didn’t have to feel cowed and weak and beaten, but she did. She couldn’t stop the stream of tears. She licked them from her upper lip.

“You should simply get your guard ... to manhandle me again and save yourself the trouble.”

What was supposed to be a sarcastic, self-assured answer had her anguish flavoring every word. Elise couldn’t stop shivering.

“You lying, scheming, little—”

Elise didn’t hear the rest. For the first time in her life, she knew how it felt to faint.

Chapter 20

“Come along then, Elise. Elise?”

The fuzzy feeling about her face was fading. It took a few seconds before she realized it was the Duke of MacGowan speaking to her. It took another few to notice that he was undoing the buttons down the front of her blouse.

I’ll not allow this!
“What do you think you’re doing?” she asked feebly.

“Getting you air, of course. What else?”

He had her blouse undone completely and didn’t need to pull it from the waistband of her skirt, because that garment wasn’t even on her anymore.

“I have quite enough air already,” she replied.

Elise’s voice was getting stronger. She was getting control of her limbs again, too. She gripped the blouse placket at her breast together and held it that way. Colin pulled the ends from her, as if she wasn’t holding it, and pulled the garment roughly off of her. Elise congratulated herself that she hadn’t given sound to her cry of protest.

“You’re soppin’ wet. In this country, that can mean death. I had to strip you to your knickers. They’re verra pretty ones, too. Frilly. Not much for warmth. Here, I’ve finished. You can protect your modesty.”

He deftly pulled the ends of a blanket about her and propped her into the corner of her bench. Elise noticed that he wasn’t looking anywhere near her as he seated himself. He looked a bit white about the mouth, too.

The blanket was warm, but it didn’t compensate for losing the heat that seemed to come from his nearness. Elise guessed the look on her face was from the worry and confusion. Her own body wasn’t listening. She’d vowed not to feel anything for him, and everything mocked her. The pulsing sensation was back, deep in her belly, making a throb that wouldn’t ebb; the slightest scrape of her nipples against the satin made an accompanying tempo of shivers to join the pulsation, and the entire mass of it felt like a series of far-off drumbeats.

“You’ve got color back. It’s an improvement. You’ve such pale hair and skin that when you faint, you look a ghost. Did you ken that?”

“I don’t faint,” she replied.

“Excellent time to start, then. My compliments.”

“Save them for one of your clansmen.”

He sighed hugely, which made his chest rise. Elise averted her eyes, although it was difficult. It was because he had such strength evident in every line, she decided. He was a massive man. He stood apart from others. She’d never seen one as well-defined and muscular. His Honor Guard were all large men, but none would be mistaken for the laird.

“Are you recovered sufficiently, then?” he asked.

“Sufficient to what? And, to whom?”

“Answering questions, of course. You do remember that was the reason for your performance of a few moments past?”

“Performance? I fainted,” she replied.

“You did it well. Timely.”

‘You’re an insufferable prig, Your Grace,’’ she said sweetly.

“As I recall, your opinion was na’ one of my questions. I doona’ think I want that one asked or answered. I think I’ll excuse you from another of them as well. I’ve already decided the answer myself.”

Elise’s mouth tightened, but that was the only sign she gave.

“I see verra well why Evan was enamored of you. You’ve a quick wit, and you’re a verra beautiful woman. Verra. Especially the parts hidden beneath your clothing. Evan always did have exquisite taste.”

Elise sucked in a breath and glared at him. He wasn’t looking. She watched as he sat upright on his bench, unbuttoned and pulled off his own jacket, then started on his shirt. There was an erotic motion to it she’d not suspected existed before. She lifted the blanket’s edge to cover her mouth and demanded her eyes to cease looking.

Colin creased the clothing precisely before laying it atop the bench beside him. Elise didn’t move her eyes. Then he started removing each boot, taking more time than was necessary to slip the laces. She was holding her breath when he finished with one and prayed he wouldn’t notice. She wouldn’t allow him to do this! Whatever it is he’s doing, she told herself.

After Colin had the pair lined up exactly to the edge of the carriage door, he stood. The carriage wasn’t tall enough for him, and Elise barely kept her gasp silent as he undid the trouser buttons at his hip. She pulled the edge of her blanket clear to the bottoms of her eyes. He didn’t notice. He bent forward, faced the carriage door, and then pulled down his pants, for all the world like she wasn’t there.

Elise couldn’t seem to control her own eyes as he sat on the opposite bench and finished removing his slacks. He was wearing another pair of calf-length under-drawers. Her sigh of relief made it to sound, and she shoved the fingers of one hand into her mouth.

This was inexcusable ... incorrigible! Just because His Grace, Colin MacGowan, had a physique of a Grecian god wasn’t any reason to stare like a love-starved ninny! Elise reprimanded herself, and lost out.

He was pretending she wasn’t there, but it was a lie. She could tell. The strange half-smile on his lips was giving it away.

“You can look now. I’m na’ going to ravish you.”

“What?” The word was garbled. She should have removed her fingers first, and the quick look he flashed at her told her of his knowledge of it.

“I’ve better things to do with my time.”

Elise told herself she wasn’t insulted, but it wasn’t true.

Colin bent his legs onto each other in a strange sitting pose on his bench. Elise watched with eyes that had seemed to have forgotten again how to blink, as he straightened his back and took several deep breaths. Then he placed his hands together, palm to palm, bent his head forward, and leaned his forehead onto his entwined fingers.

Elise knew that she no longer existed for him. She could have been stark naked and reclining on the bench, like she’d seen once in an illicit drawing, and he wouldn’t have noticed. She sensed the calmness and peace that started radiating from him, and she was jealous. She grew warmer, too. It had to be the fleece-lined, woolen blanket he’d wrapped her in. Her mind and experience were telling her that much, but her intuition knew better.

There was something about this man. Something that existed only for her. It was the same thing that had aborted her escape attempt. It was as if an invisible cord threaded the space between them, and she didn’t know enough about it to cut it.

She recognized the humming sound, although it was fainter; it seemed to be coming from Colin’s side of the carriage. Elise was annoyed with herself. She had better things to do than watch the Duke of MacGowan and think fanciful thoughts. She really should have been better at her sewing hoop, she decided.

When they arrived at the courtyard to Castle Dunvargas, Colin was again fully attired. He’d come out of his strange trance a quarter hour before they’d arrived. He hadn’t seemed tired or sore, although she could’ve sworn the indentation of the cushions at her back and legs were permanently imprinted onto her.

The reason for his care when undressing was apparent, too. While her cast-off apparel was in a heap on the carriage floor, he looked as fresh as when he’d first entered the carriage. His clothing fit without a wrinkle, belying the need for creasing, and he hadn’t a hair out of place. He’d made certain of it in a small mirror he carried. Elise could have kicked herself for knowing all of that, too.

“No doubt, they’ll have the usual reception prepared for us. You’re na’ attending.”

She didn’t answer. She was afraid it would give her away. The fist wrapped about her heart was squeezed tight, making it painful and bringing self-pitying tears too near the surface.

“It’s na’ due to any disagreement between us, you understand. I’ll na’ start a scandal of that nature. I’m still staving off any the bastard’s presence started. The introduction to my household of my nephew could have been something I’d planned easily enough. I’m simply leaving out any maternal relationship at present.”

“Do as you wish. It’s what you’re best at.” Elise wanted to snatch the words back the moment she spoke them.

“You appear to be learning. Excellent. By the time we arrive at my home, you may even surprise yourself at your ability to obey me.”

“Forgive my earlier description. You’re not a prig. You’re an egotistical, insufferable boor. I’ll not stay beyond my six weeks.”

“My offer is withdrawn,” he informed her.

“Excuse me?”

“The reverend at Crewe effectively canceled it. You were na’ payin’ attention to the vows? There’s a til death part, you know... or were you na’ listening?”

“Nothing has been consummated, Your Grace. I can still attain my annulment. You know it.”

He sighed heavily. Then he smiled. There was nothing humorous about it. “I keep forgetting how young you are. It’s na’ entirely my fault. Your abilities are ancient. You are na’ attending the reception because you seem to have lost your attire during the ride, inside this carriage—with me. I assume they’ll make the proper connection.”

The strangled cry she stifled was the best she could do.

“Oh, good, we’ve arrived. Try to hold a temper until I’ve finished carrying you to the rooms.”

“You’re not carrying me.”

“Oh yes, I am. And it’s na’ due to any want on my part. It’s a mark of ownership and a certainty of obedience. You’re to hide yourself. Tomorrow, I have to produce my duchess, and you’re going to look every inch the woman who ensnared two MacGowan clansmen. Are you clear on that?”

Elise hadn’t access to a mirror. She had her hair pinned up, but it was bound to be in disarray, and she didn’t have anything except her chemise on. He knew that was how she’d interpret what he’d said.

“Prepare yourself. The curtain’s rising.”

The carriage had halted, and Colin tapped his hat on. The door opened. Elise pulled the blanket over her head as she sat up.

“Now, come into my arms like you want to be there.”

She gritted her teeth and slid forward. There was going to come a day when Colin MacGowan would regret every little insult and every uncivilized ploy. She was going to make certain of it.

He held her to his chest; it felt like he made it closer than was necessary. She didn’t do anything about it. She tipped her nose into his neck and listened to the commotion about them.

“Your Grace! Such a pleasure to have you stay. I can na’ tell you how thrilled my wife is to be one of the first to meet your new spouse! She reads every paper. I can na’ stop the woman. She probably knows more about your bride than you do. Congratulations to you both. Is this her, then? Open the wool. Let me greet her proper-like.”

“She’s a bit indisposed, I’m afraid. The English doona’ travel well.” He sighed. Elise moved with it. “My luck. Mick? Show me to my chamber, and have Her Grace’s clothing fetched.”

“We’ve so longed to meet her. Yon have nae idea. Is her hair really the color of moonlight? My wife says it’s nigh impossible, but I’d rather defer to experience... and that you have. Well?”

“I believe I’ll let your own eyes be the judge. Mick? My room? Her Grace grows heavy as we tarry about.”

Elise scrunched her eyes shut to the entire brightly lit entryway. She wished she could shove cotton into her ears, too.

“She’ll be well enough to attend tomorrow’s banquet? It’s held in both your honors. There’ll be quite a turnout. Nae one could believe the notorious Ice Goddess would move this far north, although that’s where ice belongs, eh?” The man was laughing at his own wit. No one else was.

“If I doona’ get her some rest, my lord, she may na’ be able to leave her bed. She’s English. You ken? Allow me to see her settled, then I’ll be down directly to discuss it.”

“Forgive me, Your Grace. I would na’ delay your wife’s rest another moment. Wilson! Show them their chambers. See them settled. Will I be seeing you again this eve, Your Grace? I’ve sent out notices. We’ve got guests.”

“You’ve whiskey?” Colin asked.

“Of course, Your Grace, only the finest.”

“In that case, I’ll be back. I’ll not delay. Mick?”

Elise had spent four years of her life making certain she’d never be treated to the experience she’d just gone through. She never wanted to be at any man’s beck and call. She’d never wanted to know how it felt to have a man speak for her, decide for her, and direct her every movement for her. She’d wasted all that time making certain no man could do what The MacGowan presently was doing.

In retrospect, she should have married the first spineless sop she met.

The experience of being held in Colin’s arms while he climbed stairs was especially unnerving. She could feel each breath on her cheek, and it was getting longer between each of them. He wasn’t breathing any heavier from the exertion of carrying her. That much, she guessed.

She watched the slight growth of whiskers on his chin before she dared glance higher. Even with the hatred and disgust he spouted at her, he still had beautifully formed lips. She wondered what would happen if she broke her vow and told him before he could stop her.

She licked her lips and caught the lower one between her teeth. The indecision was an effective gag.

“Stop that, Elise.”

The harsh note in his voice decided her, and she lowered her eyes back to the blanket.