Page 107 of A Touch So Wicked

Elissa forced her attention back to the king. “I’m sorry, Sire, my thoughts were elsewhere.”

“Did you hear nothing we said?”

“I’m sorry,” she repeated.

The king snorted his disapproval. “Tell her of our decision, Lord Pelham.”

“What His Majesty was trying to tell you,” Pelham repeated with waning patience, “is that he is releasing you from the Tower.”

Elissa went still. “Releasing me? I’m free to leave?”

“Not exactly. His Majesty is aware of your Catholic faith, and he hopes you will appreciate his generosity. An escort will take you to St. Mary by the Sea Convent, where you will devote the remainder of your life to prayer and good deeds. Should you leave the convent without permission, the Mother Superior will notify us. You will be declared an outlaw and put to death when you’re apprehended.”

Elissa gasped. She was to be sent to St. Mary by the Sea. The convent was but a day’s journey from Misterly. Since few convents still existed in Protestant England, she supposed that sending her to Scotland was more expedient than banishing her to a convent in France or Spain. Secretly she rejoiced. Though a convent was restrictive, she preferred it to the Tower.

“A word of caution,” Pelham continued. “The convent and its inhabitants are beholden to His Majesty for their very existence, so don’t try to leave without permission or expect special treatment.”

Elissa considered Lord Pelham’s words and decided she would leave the convent despite the warning. Becoming an outlaw didn’t frighten her, for she would be free. After she left the convent, she knew it would take weeks for word to reach London. It would be enough time to collect her mother and sister and take them to Glenmoor. The only problem was that it had to be accomplished before Damian returned to Misterly.

Elissa’s silent rumination abruptly ceased when Damain approached the throne and asked the king if he might have a word with her. After a moment’s hesitation, the king gave his grudging consent. Elissa could tell Kimbra wasn’t pleased, for she snarled something to Damian that made him frown and remove her hand from his arm.

Damian turned to face Elissa and stared directly into her eyes, as if trying to convey a message. “I but wanted to wish Lady Elissa a safe journey,” he said earnestly. “And to tell her that Lady Kimbra and I are to be wed.”

Elissa reeled as if struck. She should have expected it, but it still hurt unbearably.

Damian looked like he wanted to reach out to her but Elissa knew she was imagining it. “Were you aware that our marriage was declared illegal?” Damian asked in a gentle voice that confused her.

Was he deliberately trying to hurt her? “Aye. I knew. Will you and your bride return to Misterly immediately following the wedding?”

“Nay, Lady Kimbra wishes to enjoy the London Season first,” Damian replied.

The agony of Damian’s betrayal was nearly unbearable, but she’d be damned if she’d let his callous words destroy her. Besides, if her plan to get her mother and sister out of Misterly was to work, it was best that Damian wasn’t there to stop her. For all she cared, he could indulge his new bride all he wished, for it suited Elissa’s plans perfectly.

“When is the wedding?” she asked with little enthusiasm.

Damian opened his mouth to answer, but Lord Pelham forestalled him. “The wedding is to take place in His Majesty’s Privy Chamber in ten days. That’s all you need to know. You will be escorted to the convent immediately.”

Elissa wasn’t surprised at this abrupt dismissal. She knew she was as welcome as the plague. Neither the king nor Damian could stand the sight of her. The sooner she was gotten rid of, the better. She was puzzled, however, by the Crown’s decision to place her in the convent instead of executing her. Had someone petitioned the king for her life?

Elissa’s thoughts skidded to a halt when the chamber door opened, admitting Captain Harding…her escort, she supposed. She caught a glimpse of Damian’s face as she dropped into an awkward curtsy. His expression shocked her. Pain, pity, anger, anxiety, and something else. Love? Surely not. The love she thought had existed between them was a myth. Damian had everything he’d ever desired now, while she, she had nothing but the bairn he had put in her belly.

“I am ready, Captain,” she said as Harding grasped her arm to escort her away.

Damian watched Elissa walk away, head held high, her spine stiff. Never had he been so proud of her. It nearly killed him to stand by and watch the love of his life walk out of it. Never again would he hold her in his arms, or make love to her, or tell her he loved her.

He had saved Elissa from certain death, but at what price? Though Misterly was still his, he’d happily relinquish it for just one more kiss from Elissa’s sweet lips. Kimbra was no substitute for the wife he’d just lost, and God knows he’d have to force himself to bed her. And each time he bedded Kimbra it would be Elissa’s face he’d see, Elissa’s lips he’d kiss, Elissa’s body he’d love.

A slow smile curved his lips. It suddenly occurred to him how he could see Elissa and tell her the truth about Kimbra. Could he make it work? A hasty plan formed in his mind as he escorted Kimbra to her bedchamber.

“That went well,” Kimbra said smugly. “The Jacobite is out of our lives for good. Will you escort me to the Cavandish musicale tonight? It will be the perfect occasion to announce our upcoming nuptials.”

“I have other plans,” Damian said.

“Can’t they wait?” She placed a hand on his chest. “I need you,” she purred seductively. “We are betrothed. I want you in my bed tonight.”

The harshness of Damian’s expression should have warned Kimbra, but she appeared too absorbed in her own needs to notice as her hand strayed from his chest, moving boldly downward to his flaccid sex.

“I can make that hard for you, Damian.”