Page 11 of A Touch So Wicked

Damian scowled. Wherever did the child get that idea? Before he could answer, Nan said, “Lord Clarendon is a great knight, lass, he wouldna hurt ye.” Her fierce expression dared Damian to challenge her.

“You are safe here, child. You and your mother will remain at Misterly under Nan’s care.”

Lora’s relieved look was quickly replaced by one of concern. “What of Lissa, my lord? Ye dinna mention her.”

Damian was at a loss for words. He didn’t know how to speak to children, especially when it came to conveying unwelcome news. “Perhaps your nurse had better explain. I have duties to attend and business to conduct.” He nodded curtly and made a hasty exit.

“What did the English lord mean?” Lora asked, staring at Damian’s departing back.

“Donna trouble yerself, dearling,” Nan soothed. “When all is said and done, Elissa will have the happiness she deserves. Demons can be tamed, and yer sister has a will nearly as fierce as the new lord’s. They will have a long road with many pitfalls to travel, but ‘twill be worth it.”

“I donna understand,” Lora complained. “Should I be frightened? I know your ‘voices’ tell you things. What do they say?”

“I canna explain, for sometimes my ‘voices’ are confusing, lassie, but I promise ye will come to nae harm.”

Irritation rode Damian when he returned to the great hall and found Highlanders and Englishmen in open confrontation, separated by an invisible wall of animosity. Damian strode into their midst, hands on hips, a scowl darkening his brow.

“I will countenance no hostility in my home,” he roared over the spate of angry outbursts between his English retainers and the Highlanders. “I expect everyone to treat each other with respect. I have appointed Sir Brody my steward. Take your complaints to him and he will convey them to me if they warrant my attention.” He motioned Sir Brody forward so the Frasers could identify him.

“Life at Misterly will change little,” he continued. “We must all work together to maintain a peaceful existence. Who has charge of the stores?”

Lachlan Fraser stepped forward. “That be me, yer lordship.”

“Very good. I want a complete inventory of foodstuffs, materials, and tools. I need to know whether the grain bins are full or empty, and what you expect the yield and condition of this year’s crops to be.”

Lachlan gave Damian a sullen look but nodded his compliance.

“Who is in charge of arms?”

“We have nae weapons,” Dermot said.

“We do now,” Damian retorted. “Thomas, come forward.” One of Damian’s mercenaries pushed through the throng. “You will act as master of arms. I’m sure there’s an armory somewhere in the fortress. Sir Richard, you’re in charge of security and billeting. I want guards posted in the gatehouse and on the walls at all times.

“One more thing,” Damian said before dismissing everyone. “My table will be open to everyone, Frasers and Englishmen alike. Those who take meals in the keep will be expected to do so without dissention. There will be peace at Misterly.”

Once the hall cleared, Damian strode to the kitchen in search of the cook. A rotund woman of middle years looked up from the pot she was stirring when he entered, a startled expression on her face.

“Are you the cook?”

“Aye, I be Winifred.” She pointed a spoon at another woman standing beside a bleached wooden table. “And this be Vera, me helper.”

Damian nodded in curt acknowledgment. “You are to go about your duties as before. Just remember that you will be cooking for larger numbers now. Tell my steward your needs when they arise and he will take care of them.”

Later that day, Damian rode out to speak to the shepherds. He was pleasantly surprised at the size of the flocks dotting the nearby hills and valleys. Misterly would not want for fresh meat during the winter months. And judging by the look of the fields, there would also be sufficient grain to feed hungry Frasers as well as his own men. With the fresh game his hunters would bag, he didn’t expect a shortage of food in the near future.

While Damian was engaged elsewhere, Elissa knelt at her mother’s bedside, their voices hushed as they spoke together.

“I canna bear a separation,” Lady Marianne bemoaned. “You and Lora are all I have left. I donna care about Misterly, ’tis you and your sister I worry about. What will become of you, dear one? ’Tis cruel, so verra cruel.”

“I’m not going to the convent, Mama,” Elissa whispered. “He canna make me go.”

Concern darkened Marianne’s eyes. “’Tis dangerous to thwart the Englishman. He looks to be a hard man. I donna want to see you hurt.”

“I’ll be careful, Mama. When everyone is sleeping, I’m gong to leave the keep through the tunnel and make my way to Tavis’s stronghold. I canna bear the thought of being cloistered within the walls of St. Mary’s. Tavis is right, Mama. We must band together and fight English oppression.”

“Nay, daughter. We have seen too much bloodshed already. Did Culloden teach you naught? Our loved ones have been taken from us forever.”

Elissa hardened her heart against her mother’s pleas. She had to escape. She’d be of no help to anyone in a convent. With Tavis’s support, mayhap she could return Misterly to the Frasers and send the Demon Knight fleeing back to England.