Page 65 of A Touch So Wicked

Damian turned to leave. “I had hoped we’d find common ground, but I see I was mistaken.”

“Do you love Elissa?” Kimbra challenged, stopping Damian in his tracks. His silence was damning. “How can you? You fought Jacobites at Culloden; you lost your father there.”

Damian whirled to face her. “The battle was fought and won long ago. I hold no grudges. Lord Cumberland has decimated the Highlanders’ ranks; only a few lucky souls remain to carry on their tradition, and most of them are in hiding. I was given Misterly to hold for England and to maintain peace in this remote corner of Scotland. I’d hoped you’d be a helpmate to me.”

“I will be your countess and share your passion, but I simply refuse to spend my life at Misterly.” She looked away. “Leave me. There’s much to be done before our wedding tomorrow.”

Had Kimbra not turned her back, she would have seen Damian’s expression harden before he stormed from the chamber, slamming the door behind him. How in bloody hell was he going to survive this marriage?

Fate intervened.

The Gordons appeared at Misterly the following day. Damian was awakened at dawn with the news that a man bearing a white flag was approaching the gate. Damian dressed and hurried down to the gate to meet the messenger.

Dermot had gotten there before him. “’Tis the Gordon chieftain,” he said.

Damian studied Tavis Gordon with avid curiosity. The man was handsome, he grudgingly allowed. Tall and rugged, he held himself proudly beneath the forbidden clan tartan thrown carelessly over his shoulder. Damian could understand Elissa’s fascination with the man.

Tavis Gordon rode to within shouting distance, then stopped.

“What do you want, Gordon?” Damian demanded.

“My intended bride,” Gordon shouted. “Send her out and we’ll leave peacefully.

“You know I can’t do that,” Damian returned.

“Elissa was promised to me by her father. Release her. If ye donna send Elissa out to me now, we will attack. We have enough strength on our side to win.”

“You’re welcome to try, Gordon,” Damian challenged, “but you won’t succeed.”

“More than a hundred Highlanders are camped in the forest, Englishman. What say ye to that?”

“Go to hell.”

Gordon stared at Damian for a long moment, then he wheeled his mount and rode off into the dense forest beyond Misterly.

“Does Gordon speak the truth, Dermot?” Damian inquired of the old man. “Could he have rallied that many Highlanders to his cause?”

“There be outlaw clans living in exile in the mountains,” Dermot said. “It wouldna take much to persuade them to retaliate against the English butchers who killed their kinsmen and seized their homes and lands. It wouldna surprise me if Gordon had enlisted a hundred or more men to join him.”

“He knows he cannot win,” Damian said.

“Highlanders are a curious lot,” Dermot mused.

“Their strength lies in their tenacity and their unshakable belief in themselves. Gordon believes Elissa is his and that Misterly should belong to him by right of marriage to Alpin Fraser’s daughter.”

Sir Richard appeared at Damian’s side. “I alerted the soldiers while you negotiated with Gordon. They’re waiting for your orders.”

“I can always count on you, Dickon,” Damian said, slapping the knight on the back. “I want around the clock guards and double patrols on the bulwarks. For now we’ll wait and watch.”

“What about the villagers? Are they in danger?”

“I doubt it. The villagers are mostly farmers and shepherds. It seems unlikely that Gordon would attack Elissa’s kinsmen.”

“Can you trust the villagers not to join Gordon and take up arms against you?”

“I don’t know, Dickon. I can only hope they will realize I can do more for them than the Gordon chieftain.”

Another voice joined the conversation. “Tavis Gordon will do whatever it takes to punish you.”