Page 105 of A Touch So Wicked

“Really, Lord Damian,” Kimbra admonished, “how can you ask such a thing? I do not want that woman in my home. She’ll live, let that suffice.”

“’Tis not acceptable. Elissa cannot survive if she’s to remain in the Tower.”

“How dare you question His Majesty’s generosity,” Lord Pelham charged. “The alternative to the Tower is death, if you recall.”

“Your Majesty,” Damian said, appealing directly to the king. “Let me remind you that no one can defend Misterly as well as I. The Frasers have begun to trust me. They rejected Tavis Gordon and his rebellious clansmen in my favor. If Misterly is given to another, there’s bound to be trouble at a time when you can ill afford it.”

“Nevertheless,” Lord Pelham said haughtily, “you have not the right to demand anything from your king.”

King George cleared his throat and motioned for silence. “We will listen to what Lord Clarendon has to say. What will it take to gain your cooperation?”

Damian spoke firmly and without a hint of the fear battering him. Elissa could die in the Tower if his words failed to sway the monarch.

“I will wed Lady Kimbra, honor her as my wife, and protect Misterly with my life, but only if Elissa is released from the Tower. I will even agree to spend the Season in London to please Lady Kimbra, though it does not please me to do so. What say you, Sire?”

Damian’s hopes soared as King George conferred with Lord Pelham in low whispers and exaggerated gesturing. Damian waited in gut-clenching anxiety for the king’s answer. There was nothing more he could say. He prayed it would be enough.

“So, you really do love the Jacobite,” Kimbra said in an aside while they waited on the king and Pelham. “How droll.”

“You wouldn’t understand, Kimbra. I’ll never have with you what I had with Elissa.”

Kimbra shrugged. “It matters not. I never asked for love. Your body will satisfy me.”

“I promised the king I would do my duty by you, and so I shall,” Damian said grimly.

Kimbra gave him a sultry look beneath fluttering lashes. “’Tis all I want, Damian,” Kimbra said.

The conference between the king and Pelham ended. Damian snapped to attention. He had spoken so boldly it wasn’t unreasonable to think he’d end up in the Tower with Elissa.

“Lord Clarendon,” Pelham began, “His Majesty acknowledges your courageous defense of king and country and wishes you to remain Lord of Misterly. Therefore, he will grant your request. Mistress Fraser will be released from the Tower and escorted to the St. Mary by the Sea Convent, her original destination.

“If you agree to those terms, His Majesty and the queen will host a wedding reception for you and Lady Kimbra.”

Elissa was to go to the convent. Though it was less than Damian had hoped for, it was far better than the Tower and certain death.

“You are more than generous,” Damian allowed, choking on the words. “I will wed Lady Kimbra.”

“Oh, Damian,” Kimbra gushed. “I knew you’d come around. I can’t wait to begin the Season as your wife.”

“Leave me,” King George said, waving them away. “We are exhausted.”

Kimbra clung possessively to Damian’s arm as he escorted her from the Privy Chamber. The planes of Damian’s face turned stark as he considered the dim future stretching before him. The king could force him to wed Kimbra, but no one could make him love any woman but Elissa.

Chapter Nineteen

Wrapped in her cloak, a blanket bundled around her shoulders for added warmth, Elissa huddled on the bed, listening to the wind howling through the window. She felt nothing, nothing at all. In order to survive, she had willed her body and mind into a state of numbness. Time had no meaning. Had she been residing in the Tower one week, or two? It felt like an eternity.

She watched the rats playing tag with scant interest, for she’d lost all fear of the odious creatures that had grown fat on her uneaten food. Their antics had been diversions that served to take her mind off her misery.

Inured to external disturbances, Elissa paid little heed when the door to her chamber opened. She knew without looking that the warder had arrived with a bowl of gruel, which the rats would doubtlessly enjoy after he left.

Not for the first time Elissa wished for something decent to eat, but she knew she was unlikely to get it. She could no longer deny what she’d suspected since leaving Misterly. The signs were unmistakable. She carried Damian’s bairn and needed healthier food if her child was to survive.

Unless her circumstances changed, however, Elissa feared she wouldn’t live long enough to bring her bairn into the world. She had no mirror, but she knew weight had melted off her body and her cheeks were hollow, her eyes lusterless. Could death be far away?

Why had Damian abandoned her? Had everything he’d told her been a lie? Her head drooped against her chest. She was hurt, disillusioned, and devoid of all hope. Justice was not only blind; in her case it was completely lacking.

“Mistress, are you unwell?”