My Highland Love: Highland Lords Series (16 page)

"He and Lady Ross are in his library. Says
you must come without delay."

"Margaret?" Elise shot a glance at
Winnie.

"The man keeps his promises," Winnie
remarked.

"The man is an idiot." Elise turned back to
Mary. "Tell him I'm busy."

The girl gasped. "I canna' do that. He'll
have my hide."

Elise's stomach gave another turn. It was her
hide he wanted.

Tell him the truth,
her mind insisted,
but she ignored the urging now as she had last night when Marcus
said it was her he wanted to marry and not Margaret. He wasn't the
sort of man who would let his wife set off to America with the
intention of avenging herself against a killer. And Amelia and
Steven deserved more than to be forgotten at sea.

"Tell him I'm busy," Elise said.

Mary shot Winnie a beseeching look, but
Winnie shrugged. "Lady Margaret can go to the devil."

Mary looked at Elise again. "You can't
refuse."

Elise gave a single shake of her head. Mary
looked from one to the other, then whirled and left the
cottage.

Elise still sat across the table from Winnie,
deep in conversation, when another rap sounded on the cottage door,
this one sharper than the last.

"Who in the world?" Winnie complained. She
hurried to the door and threw it open. "Marcus." The housekeeper
stepped back.

Elise flicked her gaze from Marcus to
Margaret, who stood beside him, then narrowed her eyes on him. He
lifted a brow as if to ask where she would now hide and, despite
her efforts, her heartbeat accelerated.

"May we?" Marcus indicated the interior of
the cottage with a nod.

"Aye, of course." Winnie stepped clear of the
doorway.

Margaret glided into the room ahead of him
and sat in the chair Winnie had occupied. Marcus leaned against the
doorframe.

A moment of silence passed before Margaret
addressed Elise. "I understand there has been a misunderstanding
between us."

For the hundredth time, Elise thanked God for
the misunderstanding. Otherwise, Marcus would have looked deeper
for the reason behind her running away.

"I wish to apologize for any distress I
caused," Margaret said.

Elise quirked a brow. A tinge of red
heightened the color in the woman's cheeks. Satisfaction shot
through Elise. What would the woman think of Marcus's marriage
proposal to a lowly servant? The thought vanished with the
realization that Marcus might have told her. Who else might he have
told? The possibility of spending the rest of her life with this
man—

"I regret you misinterpreted my words," Lady
Ross went on.

"I understood you perfectly," Elise
replied.

Another long silence drew out before Margaret
looked at Marcus. "Now that this is all settled, your—" She
stopped, and Elise caught sight of the now hard set of his jaw.
Margaret turned her attention back to Elise. "We understand one
another, then?"

"We do."

Lady Ross angled her head. "I shall be
going." She glanced at Marcus. "If I may?"

With a brusque nod, he straightened from the
doorframe. "Winnie, escort Lady Ross to the stables, if you
please."

Margaret rose and walked to the door. She
paused beside Marcus as though to say something but, with a curtsy,
left with Winnie closing the door behind them.

When they'd gone, he closed the door and
faced Elise. "I sent for you."

"Yes."

"Yet you forced me to bring Margaret to
you."

"Yes."

"And when we arrived, you were less than
gracious."

"Milord," Elise said in exaggerated tones,
"you can force me to sit quietly while you issue commands, but you
cannot force me to agree."

Marcus blinked, then started toward her. She
tensed as he threw himself into the chair beside hers, folded his
arms across his chest, and regarded her.

"Is it so difficult to do as I ask?"

"In this case, yes," she replied.

"This request, then, went against your… moral
fiber?"

"That is one way of putting it."

A gleam appeared in his eye and a prickle of
dread crept up her neck.

"This means," he went on, "you will honor
future requests so long as they do not go against your moral
convictions?"

"Perhaps," she answered tentatively.

"Mayhap a distraction would help." His gaze
held hers. "Would you like to know what sort of distraction I have
in mind?"

"No," she replied, and mentally cursed the
all-too-quick response.

"Too late."

Marcus stood. In one quick motion, he grasped
her waist and lifted her onto the table. With a single finger, he
tilted her chin upward so she was forced to look directly into his
eyes.

"I have found my threats are meaningless.
Probably because you know I am incapable of carrying them out
against your beautiful body."

He shifted his gaze to her neck and moved his
finger lightly on the hollow of her throat. Elise tried to quell
the quiver in her stomach, but the almost imperceptible, yet
arrogant twitch at the corner of his mouth said she hadn't been
completely successful.

"I am, however, more than willing to do this
every time you disobey me." He cupped the nape of her neck as he
bent and covered her mouth with his.

Elise twisted in an effort to distance their
bodies. Marcus gave a satisfied grunt and shoved her thighs apart
with his knee. He pulled her close, pressing her stomach against
his erection. A gust of desire startled Elise. He slipped a hand
beneath her skirt.

She wriggled in an attempt to break the kiss.
Her belly rubbed across his hard shaft. She jerked back, but he
hugged her closer as he traced circles up her inner thigh. She
seized his shoulders and tried to shake his immoveable body. His
tongue slipped past her lips and thrust gently against her
tongue.

In her mind's eye, she saw him ease her back
onto the table and pull up her dress until she lay bared before
him. How easily he could spread her legs, then lift his kilt
and—Elise jolted. His hand had moved farther up her thigh. She
swayed with dizziness. Body and mind seemed connected only through
the roiling in her stomach. His fingers brushed the sensitive skin
on the uppermost part of her thigh.

Elise tore her mouth from his and buried her
head in his shoulder. "Enough," she said between heavy breaths.

His hand stilled. "Have I selected an
effective distraction?"

"You know perfectly well what you've
done."

Marcus removed his hand from her thigh, then
grasped her shoulders, holding her at arm's length. "Beware," he
said, and something suspiciously close to a smile played on his
mouth, "for, if I find you disobeying me too often, I will conclude
you crave the distraction."

Realization washed over her. "You odious
man!" She pushed him from her.

Clutching his breast, Marcus took a step
back. "You wound me, my sweet."

"I'm in no mood for games." She stood and
began smoothing her rumpled skirts, slowing the action upon seeing
her hands tremble.

"I assure you," he said with a seriousness
that yanked her attention onto him, "this is no game." The glitter
in his eyes reflected the edge in his voice.

Elise stared. "You can't be serious. You
wouldn't…"

"Do what I have just done? That and more.
Passion is a powerful distraction."

His gaze held hers and she knew he was
remembering his final words before leaving her room last night,
"I will wed you."

He abruptly turned and strode to the
door.

Elise tried tearing her gaze from his muscled
calves but found herself unable to blink until the door closed
softly behind him. How was she going to get out of this mess? If
she told him she didn't love him, he wouldn't believe her.

* * * *

Elise sat on the bed beside Chloe, gripping
the girl's hands and keeping them pressed against the mattress as
Winnie placed a hand on Chloe's stomach. Her deft fingers inched
along the skin until she located the unborn child's buttocks.
Winnie pressed hard, trying once again to coax the buttocks away
from the birthing canal. Elise rubbed her forehead against her
shoulder in an effort to brush back sweat-matted hair from her
eyes.

Winnie suddenly pushed hard on the baby's
rear. Chloe flinched, crying out. Elise twisted and met the older
woman's gaze. Winnie straightened and gave a small but significant
shake of her head. Elise gently massaged Chloe's wrists before
reaching for the rag floating in a water basin beside the bed.
Elise wrung out the rag and wiped the girl's forehead. Chloe
writhed.

"Shhh," Elise soothed. "It'll soon be
over."

"Nay!" Chloe shoved at her hand. "I've killed
my own bairn."

Elise wiped Chloe's neck. The girl's body
clenched. "Winnie!" Elise called, but Winnie was already pressing
down on the baby.

Chloe jerked and would have bolted upright,
but Elise grabbed her shoulders and shoved her deep into the
mattress.

"I've killed him," Chloe whimpered.

She relaxed, the contraction receding, but
her weeping continued. Elise looked at Winnie, who again placed a
hand over the baby's buttocks and tried forcing the head into
position. Elise watched the skillful hands at work. Winnie had an
uncanny knack for understanding the core of a problem. She always
had some potion ready for any ailment. But no potion could be
concocted for Chloe. The girl no longer wept. She lay, eyes closed,
her tear-stained face resigned.

With a short nod to Elise, Winnie pressed
down on Chloe's stomach again. Elise held Chloe's arms. The girl
did little more than grunt when Winnie bore down on her stomach.
Another contraction struck. Chloe's hips arched off the bed. Elise
bit her lip to keep the tears in check. How much more could the
girl endure? She'd labored for twenty-two hours. Soon, she would
grow too weak to birth the child.

Winnie pressed down on the baby for an
agonizing hour and a half, then abruptly took a quick step back and
reached beneath the sheet covering Chloe's legs. Elise felt a
sudden jerk on Chloe's body, and the girl nearly wrenched free of
her hold.

"Hold her!" Winnie shouted.

Elise closed her eyes. Chloe screamed. Elise
heard a loud swooshing noise and her eyes shot open as Chloe went
limp.

No loud wail followed.

Chloe bolted upright. "Give him to me!"

"Now, Chloe," Winnie cooed, her back to them.
"Let me take the babe and—"

"Nay!" Chloe screamed
. "Give me my
bairn."

Winnie looked over her shoulder. "Chloe, 'tis
best if ye don't see him." Her eyes softened. "Trust me, lass, I
know."

Chloe looked at Winnie, her face suddenly far
older than her nineteen years. "He's mine. I have the right to hold
him." Her pained expression deepened.

A pain of the soul, not the body. One Elise
knew all too well.

"The bairn is a part of me," Chloe ended
simply.

Winnie sighed, then faced them. Elise told
herself to avert her gaze, but maternal instinct, the memory of her
own lost child, brought her gaze to bear on the beautifully formed
babe. Winnie placed him in his mother's arms. Chloe cradled him as
tenderly as if he had lived. She wiped the blood from his face,
then traced his mouth with a gentle finger. She looked up at
Winnie.

"He has Daniel's mouth."

"Aye," Winnie replied.

Chloe began to rock as she sang in a low
voice. The Gaelic words were as Greek to Elise but the meaning was
clear. Unshed tears stung her eyes. The picture of mother and child
blurred with the memory of holding her own dear Amelia, the feel of
her daughter's skin, baby soft against her breast. Elise's gaze
focused on the blood-smeared body of Chloe's child. Were things so
different for her? Did Chloe love the nameless child any less than
she had loved Amelia?

Love had deepened for Amelia as time passed.
Yet she and Chloe shared the same pain that came with lost
possibilities. The young woman had glimpsed her husband in their
child. Elise had seen much of Robert in Amelia. Who would the
children have grown up to be? Who would they have fallen in love
with? What children might they have brought into the world?

Winnie snatched the child from Chloe's arms.
Chloe's tear-filled gaze locked on the babe as Winnie whirled and
disappeared through the door. Elise froze. She was alone with the
grief stricken mother. Her own loss, instead of creating a bridge
between them, had widened the chasm, bringing her to the precipice
where roiled unrealized emotions, more bittersweet memories—and
another, deeper, more concrete conviction that she, too, had failed
as a mother.

"I killed him," Chloe whispered.

Elise stared. When had it happened? What had
been the defining moment in history when womankind became convinced
that if anything went awry in the lives of those they loved, they
were somehow responsible? Had it begun with Eve? Had the beguiling
serpent planted the seed that all mankind would suffer as a result
of her misdeed? Elise fell to her knees beside Chloe's bed.

"No." She took the shaking girl into her
arms. "It isn't your fault. It's no one's fault."

Chloe clung to her, her tears bathing Elise's
neck.

It seemed hours later when Elise heard the
creak of the door and looked up to see Winnie standing in the
doorway. Winnie's gaze went to Chloe, who slept, then came back to
Elise. Elise rose from the bed and tiptoed across the floor. Winnie
stepped from the doorway and Elise followed, quietly closing the
door behind her. The porch, not long ago filled with friends and
neighbors joyously awaiting the arrival of the newest MacGregor,
now held only silence.

"You told Daniel?" Elise asked.

"Aye."

"Where is he?"

She nodded to the left of the cottage where
the path led into the cover of the moonless night. Elise started
down the steps.