Page 57 of A Touch So Wicked

Damian gritted his teeth in frustration. “I repeat. Elissa is not my mistress.”

Kimbra glared at him, her displeasure palpable. “Why is the woman still here if she isn’t your mistress?”

Damian flew to Elissa’s defense. “Leave Elissa out of this, my lady. She has nothing to do with our marriage. I’m sure we will deal well with one another as husband and wife after we get to know one another.”

“That doesn’t answer my question, my lord,” Kimbra persisted.

“Your question is irrelevant, though I suppose I should tell you about Elissa before someone else does. Her father and brothers were slain at Culloden. She and her family were allowed to live at Misterly because of its remoteness and uselessness to the Crown. Then London received word of the intended marriage between Elissa and the outlaw Tavis Gordon.

“I was called to London and given Misterly with the understanding that I would prevent the marriage and hold the land for England. Elissa is but a pawn in a nasty game to unite the clans for another attempt at rebellion.”

“Why is she still here?” Kimbra demanded. “She is a traitor. Send her to London and let the Crown deal with her. ’Tis a fitting end for the Jacobite witch.”

The venom in her voice stunned Damian. He said coldly, “I don’t want Elissa’s death on my conscience. The lady will remain at Misterly until I say otherwise.”

“Lady? You call that traitor ‘lady’? As your wife, my lord, I have the right to say who stays at Misterly and who goes, and Elissa Fraser will definitely go.”

Damian stood abruptly. He had to leave before he lost his temper along with his wits and ordered Kimbra back to London, which would be a mistake. The king would never stand for that kind of disobedience.

Kimbra must have realized she was treading too close to the edge of Damian’s anger for she sent him a beguiling smile and grasped his arm.

“Don’t be upset with me, my lord. Once we wed you will have no need for a mistress. I will even plead with the king to let us take up residence in London. I am his ward, he has affection for me.”

“We shall see, my lady,” Damian said, pulling free and affecting a negligent bow. “I bid you good night. Breakfast is served early in the country.”

“I rarely rise before noon,” Kimbra exclaimed with mock horror. “I’ll send my maid to the kitchen for chocolate and a sweet bun when I arise.”

“Good luck,” Damian muttered beneath his breath. She was lucky to get weak tea and oatcakes. But that was something his very spoiled, very demanding bride-to-be would soon learn for herself.

Damian strode from the chamber, his opinion of Lady Kimbra quickly eroding. He’d been willing to give her a chance, but despite her great beauty he was not impressed with her. Unfortunately there was little he could do about it. In four weeks he would wed and bed Lady Kimbra and welcome the heirs she bore him.

That gave him pause for thought. For some unexplained reason he had pictured his children with vibrant red hair and green eyes.

Chapter Eleven

Damian made himself scarce the following day. He joined his men at sword practice, met with Sir Brody, and went hunting with Dickon. When he returned to the keep he found a disturbance in the hall that had gotten out of hand. Kimbra and Elissa were squared off against one another, arguing like fishwives. Damian plowed through a crowd of onlookers and stepped between them.

“What in bloody hell is going on?”

Kimbra whirled on him, fury darkening her blue eyes. “Please do not curse in my presence, my lord.”

“My pardon, my lady,” Damian bit out sarcastically. “Perhaps you’d be kind enough to tell me the meaning of this unladylike behavior.”

“With pleasure,” Kimbra said, shooting Elissa a spiteful look. “The Jacobite wench insulted me.”

Damian raised a brow in Elissa’s direction. “Elissa…?”

“I merely suggested that since Misterly was to be Lady Kimbra’s home, she should try harder to get along. Your future bride came storming into the kitchen screaming insults. Then, without provocation, she poured a cup of tea on Winifred’s head, insisting that her orders had been deliberately ignored. She’d sent her maid down for a cup of chocolate and Winifred sent tea instead. Winifred explained to Lady Kimbra that there was no chocolate available. I merely attempted to explain that we had few luxuries at Misterly.”

“I bring great wealth to this marriage, my lord,” Kimbra asserted, “and should be granted whatever I wish.”

Damian stifled a groan. “Make your wishes known to Sir Brody and he will do his best to meet your needs within a reasonable time.”

Kimbra stamped her foot. “I want chocolate now!”

Damian raised his eyes heavenward and prayed for patience. “Do we have any chocolate, Elissa?”

“Nay, my lord. ’Tis just as I said. Chocolate is a luxury the Frasers havena been able to afford. Even if we had any, after this outburst, Winifred would bury it in the garden before serving it to your lady.”