Page 45 of A Touch So Wicked

“Where are you going?”

He didn’t turn around. “Be here when I return, or you’ll be very sorry.”

Then he was gone, the hollow sound of his boot heels echoing loudly through the charged silence. She heard a commotion in the hall, then nothing more. When she dared to open the door, a guard stepped forward.

“Is there something you require, my lady?”

“N…no, thank you.”

She closed the door and leaned against it. A noise in the courtyard brought her rushing to the window. A cry caught in her throat when she saw Damian and a company of castle guards ride out from the fortress. Darkness closed in behind them and she saw nothing more.

Elissa had no idea how many men had rallied to Tavis’s cause, or if they were still waiting in the forest for her signal. What she did know was that should they engage in battle, Damian could be killed, and that would destroy her. She started to tremble, fearing the consequences this night had wrought.

Damian led the charge into the forest. As he thrashed through the thick underbrush, he spared a thought for Elissa and what she’d almost accomplished. Fortunately he was a light sleeper. He made a sound of disgust deep in his throat. Did she have the courage to kill in cold blood? He doubted it. Had she the instincts of a killer, he would already be dead. What really hurt was the knowledge that she came to him with one purpose in mind, to betray him, not because she wanted him, while he…well, ’twas best he didn’t delve too deeply into his heart for the answer.

Why did Elissa insist on making him her enemy? He certainly hadn’t harmed her…yet. It was unfortunate that she couldn’t see past Culloden and look to the future.

Damian’s thoughts scattered when he spied a number of dark shadowy figures fleeing through the forest. It appeared that Gordon had succeeded in mobilizing enough men to risk an assault upon Misterly. Fortunately Damian had nipped the plan in the bud, but it still rankled that Elissa would have opened the fortress gate to Gordon’s savage horde.

“After them!” Damian yelled, as he plunged deeper into the woods. But even as he said it he knew it was a fruitless pursuit. The Highlanders knew this land like the back of their hands and could disappear at will.

Nevertheless, Damian continued the search till dawn. Then, tired and hungry, he ordered his men back to the keep. Preparations were under way to serve the morning meal when Damian entered the great hall. Ignoring the food, he drew himself a tankard of ale and stared moodily into the hearth. His fury at Elissa hadn’t abated. When he thought of all the good Englishmen who would have been slain in their sleep had she opened the gate to Gordon, he wanted to…what? Shake her until her teeth rattled? Or love her until his name trembled from her lips?

“How did you know the Gordons were hiding in the forest?” Sir Richard asked, when he joined Damian a few minutes later.

Damian said nothing.

“I suspect Elissa is somehow involved,” Dickon guessed. “You haven’t…”

“I haven’t harmed her…yet. Excuse me, Dickon.”

Surging to his feet, he strode away, his face intent with purpose.

Chapter Nine

Elissa steeled herself to face Damian’s wrath as the bedchamber door opened. She nearly collapsed with relief when Nan, not Damian, entered the room.

“What have ye done, lass?”

Nothing in Nan’s expression offered comfort. Elissa saw only pity and concern.

“I did naught, Nan. Tavis wanted me to kill Damian and unlock the postern gate, but I couldna. I dinna even bring the knife Tavis gave me to Damian’s bedchamber.”

“Why dinna my ‘voices’ warn me?” Nan moaned. “I knew something was afoot, but the tension between ye and Lord Damian was so thick I couldna get through to the heart of things. I should have been more wary.”

“There’s naught you could have done, Nan. Tavis entered the courtyard disguised as a tradesman and waited until I was alone to approach me. He gave me a knife and said I was to kill Damian, signal him when the deed was done, and unlatch the postern gate.”

“Ye couldna kill Lord Damian,” Nan surmised.

“You’re right. Nor could I give the signal once Damian had fallen asleep. I donna want Damian to die. No matter what he did at Culloden.”

“What’s to become of ye, lass?” Nan asked anxiously.

“Nothing pleasant, I suspect.”

Nan stared at her, her keen blue eyes intent upon something only she could see. When she finally spoke, her voice sounded reedy and hollow, as if she had peered into the future and feared the consequences.

“Ah, lass, yer headed for difficult times.”