Page 63 of A Touch So Wicked

He pulled Elissa closer and placed a kiss on her damp forehead. He admired her for so many things: her strength, her tenacity, her courage. He felt a stab of unaccustomed guilt for seducing her, but he didn’t regret it. Even though she had come to him, his seduction of her had begun the day he’d arrived at Misterly. He couldn’t remember a time when he hadn’t wanted her.

His rationalization faltered when he realized her eyes were open and she was staring at him. He wanted to ask what she was thinking but lacked the courage. Lady Kimbra stood between them like a solid rock wall. Instead, he kissed and caressed and slowly aroused her again. When he slid atop her, she opened her legs in welcome.

Damian left Elissa’s bed soon after they’d made love a second time. She’d been half-asleep when he kissed her lightly on the lips and left the chamber. When he returned to the hall he was surprised to find Sir Brody, Dickon, Dermot, and Lachlan seated on benches before the hearth, talking in muted tones.

Dermot rose and hailed him. “A word with ye before ye seek yer bed, yer lordship.”

A prickling sensation crawled up Damian’s spine as he joined the men. Someone shoved a tankard of ale into his hand as he dropped down beside Dickon.

“What keeps you up so late?” Damian asked.

“We could ask ye the same thing,” Dermot replied. “What were ye doing in the solar at this hour?”

“I owe you no explanation, Dermot Fraser.”

“’Tis true, then,” Lachlan spat. “Ye’ve made the Maiden of Misterly yer mistress.”

“You wrong the lady,” Damian said harshly. “Elissa has never consented to become my mistress.”

“Yer intended bride sleeps in yonder tower,” Dermot pointed out. “Ye have no right to cast yer eyes upon our lass. She is promised to the Gordon chieftain.”

“No marriage between them will ever take place,” Damian maintained. “If any of your kinsmen are thinking of fleeing to the Gordon stronghold, I strongly advise against it. I prefer peace, but if need be, I’ll take action to destroy the Gordon clan if they become troublesome.”

“We Frasers are sick of war,” Dermot said, looking at Lachlan for confirmation. “But if ye continue to dishonor our lass, we will do what is best for our clan.”

“Aye,” Lachlan agreed. “We were willing to give ye a chance to better our lot, but we willna stand by while Elissa is being mistreated. Nor will we allow Lady Kimbra to disparage our home or our kinsmen. Think about it, yer lordship.”

On that note of warning, Lachlan and Dermot rose and strode away.

“They’re right, you know,” Dickon ventured.

“You, too, Dickon?”

“You’re setting yourself up for trouble, Damian. If you value Misterly and wish to keep it, leave Elissa alone.”

Damian noticed Sir Brody’s disapproving look and raised an eyebrow in his direction.

“Far be it from me to tell you what to do, my lord,” Sir Brody said, “but Lady Marianne is distressed about the situation beween you and her daughter.”

Damian’s hands balled into fists at his sides. “Don’t you think I know that? I can’t help myself, dammit! Something strange is happening. I don’t know what the hell is wrong with me.”

“I have a suggestion,” Sir Brody ventured.

“So do I,” Dickon said.

Damian heaved an impatient sigh. “Very well, you first, Dickon.”

“Send Lady Elissa to London and the rest of her family to the convent. You need to concentrate on your bride. Whether you approve of her or not, Lady Kimbra brings considerable wealth to your coffers. Your new title and holdings are guaranteed only if you wed the king’s choice of bride.”

“That solution is not acceptable to me, Dickon. Lady Marianne might be accepting of the convent, but little Lora’s spirit would be broken behind convent walls. As for Elissa, sending her to London is not an option. The Crown has little sympathy for Jacobites.”

He turned to the grizzled knight. “I hope your suggestion is more acceptable, Sir Brody.”

Sir Brody cleared his throat, then faced Damian squarely. “Wed the lass, my lord.”

Chapter Twelve

Wed Elissa.