Page 98 of A Touch So Wicked

“Surely you know I will not let the king get away with this travesty, Dickon,” Damian said earnestly. “I will do whatever necessary to set Elissa free. I have a plan, but I cannot act hastily. Know this, however—I’m going to go to London and petition the king on Elissa’s behalf.”

“If Damian says he will free you, my lady, then count on it. You can trust him with your life.”

“I do trust Damian,” Elissa replied. “If there is a way to help me, he will find it.” She tucked her arms through Damian’s. “You may escort me to Captain Harding now, my love.”

Damian’s footsteps faltered, but Elissa held him on course. Damian thought her more courageous than any woman he’d ever known. Most women in Elissa’s situation would be weeping hysterically, but not his wife. Her faith in him humbled him. She trusted him to rescue her, and so he would.

Watching Elissa mount her mare and ride away was the most difficult thing Damian had ever done. Though she looked calm, Damian could tell she was frightened. When she’d turned to look at him over her shoulder as she rode off, her face had already begun to crumble.

Damian wasn’t surprised to hear Elissa’s kinsmen openly weeping, for he felt like crying himself. But he wasn’t allowed that luxury, for only he could reassure them. He turned and reentered the hall. He waited until everyone had gathered around him before speaking. Dozens of faces turned to him expectantly, some furious, some sad, and some dismayed.

“I know you are all upset about what just happened,” Damian began, “and you expected me to intervene. But this wasn’t the time to defy the king or challenge his soldiers. Neither Elissa nor I wanted bloodshed, and that’s what would have happened had I ordered my men to draw their weapons.”

“What do ye intend to do?” Dermot demanded. “Our lass is gone. She is yer wife; ’tis up to you to protect her.”

“I will protect Elissa with my life,” Damian assured him, “and I’ll move heaven and earth to return her to Misterly where she belongs.”

“Talk is cheap,” Lachlan spat.

Damian faced the angry clansman, his determination clearly defined in the harsh slant of his jaw. “As God is my witness, I will not rest until the Maiden of Misterly is back home no matter what the cost to me personally. I’m going to London to bargain with the king for Elissa’s freedom.”

“When?” Dermot asked.

“The king has forbidden me to leave Misterly and I don’t want Captain Harding to know I’m following, so I’ll give them two days head start. ’Tis best I arrive in London without fanfare so I’m taking but three men with me. The rest will remain behind to protect Misterly.”

His words appeared to placate the clansmen and they began dispersing to return to their homes. Suddenly Lora came hurtling at Damian and began pounding on him with her tiny fists. Damian snatched her up and held her close.

“Why did you let those bad men take Lissa away?” she cried between sobs. “I hate you! I hate you!”

“Lora, listen to me, sweeting. I had to let your sister go. We were in no position to stop those men. Trust me, little one. I won’t let anything happen to your sister.”

His pledge made little impact upon the distraught child as she continued to cry and flail at him. Damian suffered the weight of her condemnation with a heavy heart. Lora believed he had betrayed Elissa, and in a way he had. Had he accepted Kimbra as his bride and not wed Elissa, none of this would have happened.

But selfishly he had wanted Elissa for his own. Wanted her in his bed and in his life forever. Like a fool who would not be thwarted, he had turned Kimbra away and wed Elissa, endangering her life in the bargain. That Elissa loved him was a miracle. She had every right to hate him, just as Lora did.

“Lora, calm down, sweeting. Didn’t I just promise that nothing would happen to your sister?”

“Why dinna Lissa tell us good-bye? Mama wouldna let me come down to the hall. She said there were bad men in the keep.”

“Elissa wanted to see you before she left but there was no time. I’ll explain what happened to your mother.” He spotted Maggie hovering nearby and beckoned to her. “Take Lora to the kitchen and see if Winifred has a piece of warm gingerbread for her.”

He set Lora on her feet. Still sniffling, Lora took Maggie’s hand and followed her into the kitchen. Damian was about to mount the solar staircase when Dermot hailed him.

“Did you wish to speak to me, Dermot?”

“Aye, me lord. My clansmen wanted me to tell ye that they wish ye well. Bring our lass home to us.”

Unable to speak past the lump in his throat, Damian squeezed Dermot’s shoulder. He dared not fail with so many people counting on him. Sometime during the past months he had become one of them. He felt as if he had always belonged to Misterly, and it to him. He would never be able to face Elissa’s clansmen if he disappointed them. His mouth flattened into a determined line as he mounted the stairs and rapped on Marianne’s door.

Nan opened the door to him. Damian regarded her through narrowed lids. Why hadn’t Nan warned them? Where were her so-called voices when he needed them?

Damian stepped into the chamber, praying for the right words to tell Lady Marianne why he had let Elissa leave without fighting for her freedom. He spied Marianne standing by the window, a beam of sunlight bathing her pale face.

Marianne turned to face him. Damian saw her tears and his heart sank.

“She mourns her daughter,” Nan said. “I explained what happened after the soldiers arrived and advised her and Lora to keep to their chambers. If it eases ye, she knows ye couldna have stopped what happened. She grieves for her daughter, aye, but I told her she shouldna weep for something that was meant to be.”

Anger suffused Damian’s words. “Didn’t your voices warn you that Elissa was in danger? Why were you not present to comfort her when she was taken away?”