Page 60 of A Touch So Wicked

Damian returned to the hall and slid into his chair.

“Is Mama well?” Elissa asked anxiously.

“A bit tired, but joining us tonight has been good for her. I told her she is welcome to take her meals with us whenever she feels up to it.”

“Really, my lord,” Kimbra exclaimed, “you are too generous. Harboring political prisoners isn’t in your best interest. Send them away.”

“I will take your advice under advisement,” Damian said in a tone that should have warned Kimbra that she was treading on dangerous ground.

Elissa turned away in disgust when Kimbra smiled at Damian and asked, “Will you escort me to my chamber, my lord?”

Damian rose and offered his arm. “Of course, my lady.”

Kimbra latched possessively onto Damian’s arm and swept from the hall, tossing Elissa a smug look over her shoulder.

Elissa stared moodily into her empty plate, unaware that Dermot had joined her until he spoke.

“That woman is trouble, lass.”

Elissa smiled up at him. “Aye, Dermot, but there’s naught we can do about it. She’s Damian’s woman.”

“His lordship will have another Fraser rebellion on his hands if things donna change.”

“That wouldna be wise, Dermot. At one time I wouldna have hesitated to foster a rebellion, but I no longer believe ’tis for the best. Besides, I donna believe Damian will allow his bride to run roughshod over him or us.”

“Mayhap yer right, lass, but I canna predict how long our kinsmen will stand for Lady Kimbra’s insults. Winifred is ready to quit the kitchen.”

“I’ll speak to Lord Damian. He must be made to realize what’s happening in his own home.”

Dermot took his leave. Her thoughts tumbled one upon another as Elissa climbed the stairs to the solar. Dimly she wondered what Kimbra had meant when she’d said she’d help Elissa leave Misterly. Her short acquaintance with Damian’s English bride-to-be had shown Kimbra to be spoiled, vain, and ruthless. She seemed quite taken with Damian, however, and he with her. How else would one explain Damian’s indulgence for his intended bride? He had never treated her with the same patience or consideration, but then, she made no secret of her loathing for Englishmen and their Hanover king.

Once inside her chamber, Elissa sat in the window seat and stared out over the grounds. She had decisions to make and plans to formulate. She needed to decide where she would go after she left Misterly. Fleeing to her cousin Christy at Glenmoor was always an option, but since Christy had been wed as a child to an Englishman, she worried that she’d cause trouble for her kinswoman. As close as she and Christy had been as children, there was a difference in their situations. Christy felt no affection for her absent husband while she loved Damian. Elissa’s heart told her she couldn’t remain at Misterly once Damian and Kimbra were wed. Her strong feelings for Damian were becoming more of a problem with each passing day.

Why did her heart pound and her body burn when he touched her?

Why did she obsess about him?

Why did she hate the idea of Damian marrying Lady Kimbra…or anyone?

Elissa’s thoughts skidded to a halt when she heard the whisper of approaching footsteps. Her head snapped around. “Nan, you startled me. I dinna hear you enter.”

“Ye were lost in thought, lass.” She searched Elissa’s face. “Do ye want to tell me about it?”

Elissa studied her folded fingers. “There’s naught to tell.”

“Donna do it, lass.”

Elissa’s head shot up. “Whatever are you talking about?”

“Donna believe anything Lady Kimbra tells ye. She’s a sly one.”

Elissa’s eyes widened. “What do you know of Lady Kimbra?”

“My ‘voices’ warn me of her,” Nan said. “Heed me, lass. Donna endanger yer bairn.”

“You’re daft, Nan,” Elissa scolded. “I am not with child.”

Nan gave her an enigmatic smile. “Will ye be able to say that tomorrow with the same confidence?”