Page 73 of My Highland Love

She shook her head as if speaking to a child. “You found a flaw in your defenses. Do you think it's the only one?”

Fear rushed through him. He hadn't considered there could be a single flaw, much less two, three or…

Elise took his hand in hers. “You aren't God. Close, perhaps,” she gave a faint smile, “but still human. I understand how difficult this is, but you must accept the fact that, like most mortals, you are flawed.” She paused. “Those attackers will never harm another person, and you learned a valuable lesson. Most would count themselves fortunate. Don't look so sullen. I am sure you will find a way to assuage your anger.”

Marcus blinked, then grasped her shoulders and tugged her across his thighs. He pressed his lips to her ear and murmured, “What am I to do with you?”

Elise lifted a brow, saying, “Certainly not what you think,” and gingerly shifted in his lap.

* * *

Marcus looked past his father and the other people crowding the courtyard until his gaze fixed upon Elise. She stood with a group of women, rifling through a basket of provisions they were distributing to the men who were to accompany him to London.

Cameron clasped his shoulder. “All will be well.” He glanced meaningfully at Elise, his hand dropping back to his side.

Marcus focused on his father. “She isn't to leave Brahan Seer while I am away.”

“Aye.”

“If Loudoun doesn't agree to intervene with his clansmen, I will seek an audience with King George.”

Cameron nodded. “The earl willna' relish the possibility of losing his property to one of our attacks. Castle Kalchurn is his pride and joy.”

“I plan on using that fact,” Marcus replied. He nodded toward Elise. “I had better say my good-byes.”

Marcus strode to Elise. The warrior she handed a small cloth package to grasped it and murmured thanks before joining his nearby comrades. She turned, taking a surprised step back when she nearly collided with Marcus.

“You will honor your promise?” he asked.

“I won't leave Brahan Seer.”

She couldn't leave. He had seen to that. The passageway had been boarded shut and the guards had orders not to let her pass. Marcus drew her to him. His heart pounded with every halting step closer she allowed until he could wrap his arm around her. Marcus cupped her neck in his free hand. Her gaze flitted to the side, but he cared nothing for the crowd. He kissed her. The familiar hunger lashed out. Had she any understanding of his need for her? She had called it lust. By God, he did lust after her.

Marcus took a long draught of her. When he returned, he would have set in motion what he should have done a month ago: discover her identity. He released her and motioned to the man who stood near the gate holding his horse's reins. The man pushed through the crowd and stopped beside him, reins extended. Marcus mounted, then paused, locking gazes with Elise.

“Elise.”

She waited.

“I will return.”

It seemed she didn't breathe.

“Be ready when I do.”

* * *

Three days away from Brahan Seer—from Elise—had taken a toll. Marcus looked up from the letter he was reading to the grandfather clock in the far corner of the study in his London home. He curbed a growing irritation. He'd been forced to follow the Earl of Loudoun to London, and now that Marcus awaited his arrival, the fool had the temerity to be late. Marcus finished the drink sitting before him, then returned his attention to the note sent to him by Margaret's father, Lord Ross.

Marcus, the note began, I was unexpectedly called to London and have just learned of your arrival two days ago. He gave a low laugh. “You hate London nearly as much as I do. What story did Margaret concoct to coerce you into accompanying her?” Marcus continued reading the note. Lady Ross is giving a ball tomorrow evening. I trust you will have time to attend. Marcus tossed the invitation aside. “You trust wrong, Ferris. I have no interest in seeing your daughter.”

Marcus looked up from reading the Sunday Times when a knock sounded on the door nearly an hour later. The door opened and his butler entered.

“The Earl of Loudoun to see you, Lord Ashlund.”

Marcus glanced at the clock. An hour and a half late. “Show him in, Bower.” Marcus refolded the paper and laid it on the desk as Loudoun entered.

He bowed. “Lord Ashlund, it has been some time.”