by Jackie Ivie
She shrugged. “It’s your story. Make it whatever you wish.”
“I’ve heard tell that you’ve been widowed six years. Was I listening to the right gossip on that one?”
“I really wish you wouldn’t do this.”
“No doubt, that’s what makes it so damned amusing. This stretch of road could stand some of that, I think.”
“This isn’t amusing.”
“You’re wrong there. I’m finding it verra much so. It’s entertaining, too, watching you massacre your sewing. You’re na’ much of a seamstress, are you?”
“One of my lesser talents, I’m afraid.”
“So ... what are your higher talents?” he asked.
“Not the ones you’re assuming.”
“Really? And just what is it that I’m assuming?”
Elise looked sidelong at him again. One thing was certain, he did look amused. “You tell me,” she answered.
“Perhaps I’ll ask Quorn. Is he the forthright type?”
“I’ll never tell.”
“You’re discreet. That’s admirable, it really is. That must be one of your talents. Glad to have found one. Where was I, anyway?”
Elise lifted her head to meet his gaze. The laughter showing in those brown eyes was almost more than she could withstand. Nothing she’d said was swaying him from his little inquisition. That much was obvious. She was beginning to think she’d more than met her match. It was an unsettling feeling in the pit of her stomach, too. She tried to swallow it away. She wasn’t going to be ill, and she wasn’t going to scream. She was going to get through this with her emotions intact. Colin MacGowan didn’t have the right to open closed wounds. No one did. He grinned, and she had to look back down.
“Oh, I remember now. The baiting, hooking, and netting of the illustrious, and very wealthy, Duke of Wynd. Quite an accomplishment, that one was. You must have been about twenty or twenty-one then. It’s rather odd that nae one had heard of you afore your wedding. Why is that, do you think?”
“You tell me,” she said, without any inflection.
“Do you come from the wrong side of the blanket?”
“Am I illegitimate? Not that my parents ever let on.”
This time her voice cracked a bit, despite the effort she was expending.
“Perhaps you were dreadfully poor? That would account for it.”
Elise had to put down the hoop. The knotting was probably permanent. She was becoming too agitated to work at it.
“And nae one had ever laid eyes on you until that wonderful day when Wynd laid eyes on you and made all your dreams come true.”
She was losing. He may have said more, but she wasn’t listening.
It had been twilight, nearly seven years ago. Elise had stayed too long at the vicarage. She and Evangeline had been going there for lessons since they were small. It was a two-mile walk from their home and back, but it was worth it. Sometimes Elise had thought it was the only escape she had.
Evangeline was seventeen then, and so beautiful. She hadn’t accompanied her little sister that day. Their aunt, on their mother’s side, had promised them each a Season when they were old enough. Evangeline had stayed home to put together some sort of wardrobe to travel in.
Elise hadn’t been afraid of the walk home, but she’d hurried. Father would have his whip out if she wasn’t back before dark. In her rush, she’d missed seeing the entourage bearing down on her in the village lane and hadn’t avoided being knocked down by an outrider’s horse. She’d sat in the roadside and stared. She’d never seen a real duke or a ducal carriage. It looked like something the king would travel in.
Then she’d seen him. The Duke of Wynd was ancient; his face was carved into so many lines he looked like he was frowning. He also had the strangest odor emanating from him.
“Come here, child.” He’d commanded it in a frail, shaky voice, and Elise had obeyed. She hadn’t known enough not to.
“I’ve discovered your secret, have na’ I?”
Colin’s voice broke through her nightmarish reverie. Elise stared stupidly at him. “You ... what?” she asked.
“You doona’ pay attention verra well, do you? That is definitely na’ one of your talents.’’
“I don’t want... to talk about... it.” The strain on her voice was obvious now. The last word resembled a sob to her own ears.
“Verra well. Since it is hours yet before we’ll be at Storth, what do you want to talk about?”
“The weather has certainly been nice this time of year, hasn’t it?” She spoke just above a whisper. She couldn’t change it. She didn’t have any moisture in her mouth to swallow with.
“It’s been that, and more. I only hope we doona’ run through a spring snow, or two, but I’m na’ counting on it. We’ve some miles to travel yet. My homeland is na’ known for its mild weather. I’m na’ used to it anymore. I’ll probably need extra woolens. So will you. You were bought, were na’ you?”
“What?” Her eyes were as wide as her mouth.
“Bought. Purchased. You know, as with a bride price. It was a common practice in the past. A comely daughter would bring a large settlement to her parents. That is still how most marriages in India are accomplished. I’m quite familiar with it.”
She was choking and he didn’t even seem to notice.
“You doona’ still communicate with them, do you? I would na’. I’d wish them off the face of the earth. You can tell me. I will na’ be surprised if the answer is nae.”
“My mother’s dead.” So was Elise’s voice. What little sound it made was croaked through the dryness of her throat. It didn’t stop Colin.
“Your father sold you? Your own father?”
Colin’s face glittered through the blur of unshed tears. Elise gagged on a reply. Nothing was going to stop him.
“You were terrified of marrying Wynd, were na’ you?”
“What would you know of it?” She was trying for a cold, unaffected voice, but she sounded like she was chewing on pebbles. Colin understood it, though.
“You were afraid of him, and yet you still wed him? Were you punished? I find that hard to believe. More like you went for the money and ended up paying more than you bargained for.”
“Stop! Please, please stop!” Elise put her hands to her ears and held them there. She’d found her voice, too, for she was screeching. Shuddering filled her. Colin’s eyes had changed, softened somehow, and she couldn’t face him anymore. She stared out the window and let the tears fall.
“You didn’t know my father. You can’t have known how much I hated him. He beat me. Do you hear me? He beat me!” The words were slurred with her anguish. Elise wasn’t in control of it. The young girl she’d been was the one talking.
“I would never have married Wynd! He was old. Do you hear? I hated him. That I was wed with him and had to share his bed... dear God! It makes me ill to recall it!” She was gagging as she said it. “He smelled. The entire room smelled. Don’t you understand? He was an old man!”
“But you wore the strawberry leaves. You were rich; you were a duchess, with an army of servants at your beck and call.”
“You think I cared? If I could have walked after my father beat me, I would have run. I would have done anything. I would have killed myself before I let the duke touch me!”
“Elise ... Elise.”
Colin slid forward from his bench and reached for her. She was incapable of resisting him. She collapsed onto his chest and sobbed into his shirtfront. She couldn’t control the shaking that had overtaken her.
“I dinna’ know. I’m sorry,” Colin whispered.
“They had to carry me to the altar. They had to carry me to the duke’s chambers, too. I didn’t have any fight left in me. I was only fifteen! What did I know of it, anyway?”
“Fifteen? Good God!”
“He died that night, after... I can’t finish, I can’t!” Elise tried to push from the safety of his lap, but he held her too tightly.
; “You doona’ have to finish, Elise.”
“Don’t say another word, Colin MacGowan. You wanted this, didn’t you? You wanted me screaming? Well, take notes, then.”
“I already said I was sorry.”
“I would have done anything to keep this secret... anything!” She was gripping his shirtfront and trying to shake him. It wasn’t working. “Is this what you wanted, Colin? Well, is it?”
“Na’ especially.”
“Well, you’re going to know every morbid detail now. You’re going to listen through the whole horrible thing, and then you’re never asking about it again. Do you understand?”
“Stop it, Elise.” He may have thought he commanded it, but his voice was too soft and gentle sounding. It didn’t make any difference to her tears or her trembling, however.
“He died. And I watched him do it. I spent my entire wedding night next to a...” She was gagging and had to hold a hand to her mouth. “I couldn’t move. My bandages had come off. I hurt so badly, I couldn’t even move.”
“That’s enough, Elise.”
“I’ll say when it’s enough! You asked for this, remember?”
“I dinna’ know.”
“Of course, you didn’t know! No one does. The entire staff at Wyndham is ignorant of it. Do you know why? Because they’d been ordered to stay away no matter how much I screamed.”
“The bloody bastard!”
Since Colin’s arms about her had tightened, she felt the movement of his chest as he swore. Elise took a gulp of air, and then another. I am not perched atop Colin MacGowan‘s lap, while he tears my carefully constructed persona apart! She just wasn’t! It was too strange to consider. Stranger still was the fact that she wasn’t in fear of it.
“I see you dinna’ wear bootblack on your lashes today. That’s a verra good thing for me. I’d hate to arrive at Storth with black stains all down my shirt-front.”
Colin may have been trying to sound his usual, carefree self, but he had to clear his throat midsentence to lower the octave. He let go of her with one arm and began searching the greatcoat beside him. The shifting of his thighs beneath her was startling. Elise shut her eyes and her mind to it.
It wasn’t working. She knew just how muscular his legs were. She’d had a very good look at them last night. She couldn’t believe what she was doing! She should be prostrate with guilt, not thinking of the man beneath her.
“You can put me down now, Colin,” she whispered.
“And you can shush, too. I’ve found it, thank God. I was beginning to think my man absent in his duties. Here.”
Elise had to open her eyes. Colin was proffering his handkerchief. She shoved it to her eyes.
“Thank you for telling me. I understand now. You dinna’ wish to be any man’s wife, again. It would na’ have mattered if it was me or that Easton fellow.”
“I let him die, Colin. I must have wanted him to.”
“The man got nae more than he deserved, if you ask me. Nae, that’s too mild. He should have suffered an agonizing death, na’ one from bedding a beautiful girl.”
His matter-of-fact tone and words were calming her. Elise wasn’t shaking anymore, and the handkerchief was mopping away not only the tears, but the desire to cry. She took another shuddering breath.
“You can set me down now.”
“As we’ve already gone over that particular conversation, I’ll remind you of how dull it sounds when repeated. Perhaps I doona’ think you’re sufficiently recovered to sit by yourself.”
“I am.” She sniffed after saying it, and then moved the handkerchief away to prove it.
“All right, I’ll come up with another reason. There’s the matter of your youth. You had me fooled on that score. I just found out that I’ve nearly a decade of age on you. That will require some adjustment on my part. If you think I doona’ have much experience with society women, you should see my lack of it around lasses as young as you are. You’re barely old enough to be wed.”
“I don’t want a husband, Colin, elder or otherwise.”
“That’s most likely true. Unfortunately, as I’ve told you, you’re already most legally wed ... to me.”
“I can’t consummate it, though, Colin. I just can’t!” Her voice rose and there wasn’t anything she could do about it. She refused to meet his look, too.
“Well, that would certainly open the door to an annulment later.”
“You won’t force it?”
“I am neither old, ugly, nor unsuitable bedding material. Of course, I will na’ force it. What do you think me?”
“A man,” she answered.
“True enough. Are you recovered now, then? Good. I’ve quite lost feeling in my lower extremities.”
Elise slid from him, swiveled, and sat on her own bench. She had weeded all but one petticoat from her traveling attire. It made the movement easier. It had also made it easier to feel every bit of him when he’d been beneath her. He hadn’t felt like he’d lost all feeling. He’d felt hard, strong, and warm. She didn’t know what to make of that.
The sewing hoop was still there, and she stared at it uncomprehendingly.
“You’ve been honest with me. I must be the same with you. I’ve already sent news of our marriage to my clan. I’ve nae wish to look a fool, and a cuckolded one at that. May I make a bargain with you?”
“What kind of bargain?”
“Let’s give this charade six weeks, nae longer. At the end, I’ll let you leave Castle Gowan and petition for an annulment if that’s your wish. I can always blame it on the English lack of good sense.”
“Do I have a choice on the matter?”
“Of course. Unlike your prior experiences, I’d na’ force a girl to do anything. It’s inbred. I’m asking you, as a favor to me, to pretend to be my wife. Six weeks. You can na’ have anything more pressing at hand, do you? I’ve gotten a bit of insight into the life you’ve led. It has to be boring at times. Besides, the older you look, the thinner you’ll find the ranks of available men to wreak your vengeance on.”
“I beg . . . your pardon?”
“Forgive me, I’m thinking aloud. Stop me when I’m wrong.”
“Colin—”
“All right, stop me now. I’m due for a bit of a nap, anyway.”
“A nap? After forcing me to tell you about Wynd, you mourn a lost nap? You are unbelievable. Now, you want me to agree to parade as a wife, to God alone knows how many Scotsmen?”
“And Scotswomen. Doona’ forget them. They’ll spot a fraud the moment they see one.”
“I don’t love you.”
“Well, I’ve still some time to make you do so, doona’ I?”
“I—I refuse your bargain, then.”
“Why? I’ll do my best to be charming. You do your best to resist. It sounds verra entertaining and should make the rest of our journey fly by.”
“I won’t do it. I won’t.”
“Why? Afraid you’ll lose?”
Yes, she answered silently. That was exactly what she feared. “I refuse to answer that, because it’s beneath me to do so.”
Elise picked up her discarded hoop and tried to locate her needle. Normally, it would have been easy; she could simply follow the loose thread. Unfortunately, there were no less than four large loops of loose thread, and none of them had a needle attached. Colin had been right about that one, too. Sewing wasn’t one of her talents.
“Coward.”
He didn’t seem to expect an answer, and Elise wasn’t going to give him one. She tried to ignore him as he put on his hat, and pulled the brim forward to shade his eyes. Then he propped himself into the padded corner, which her corset wouldn’t allow her to do, and slept.
Chapter 14
“For some reason I doona’ think Quorn is very fond of you, my dear. I can na’ imagine what you did. You dinna’ throw him over for another, did you? The papers seemed to think quite the opposite.”
Elise smiled behind her gloved hand. “I think it was more bec
ause we used to gossip critically of those at court. I believe his story was that he hid his wife away from society so that none others would steal her from him. He never expected me to see the truth. I think that’s more the reason for his behavior toward me today.”
“Well, he has naught to fear from me, I assure you.”
Elise giggled her reply.
“The Quorns do have a spectacular snuffbox collection, though. Now that, he’d best keep guarded.”
“I wouldn’t know,” Elise answered, as she let Colin lead her to the indoor conservatory.
The Quorns hadn’t accompanied them, nor had their other guests, so Elise had Colin MacGowan all to herself.
Almost before his wife opened her mouth, it had been obvious why Quorn preferred the thrill of London. Elise knew Colin had spotted it just as she had, for he’d met her eyes and winked. The Marquise had a spotted complexion, a rotund shape, and rotted teeth. She’d looked incongruous beside the tall, dark, dapper figure of her husband.
When they’d arrived, Elise had been afraid that she’d unseated her hat, destroyed her gown, or at least had dark circles beneath her eyes. She wouldn’t have been able to hide it, if she’d looked worn, wearied, or just plain emotionally drained, for the entire front of Storth Hall was lit. It hadn’t been necessary of yet, because the sun was just sinking. It was probably for the effect.
Colin had assured her she looked fine, and she’d had to trust him. It wasn’t necessary, though. Neither Quorn had glanced her way at all, and the greeting had been curt. Colin had escorted her up the front steps of Storth Hall and into a massive hall. It was very impressive. Elise had to look away when she’d first seen the Marquis with his wife.
Correct social decorum dictated that their hosts bow first. Colin wasn’t having any of it. He hadn’t waited for the majordomo to introduce them, he’d done it.
“Quorn! So nice of you to have us for a visit. I recall Storth Hall from the last time I was here, but that was some time ago. Allow me to introduce my wife, the new Duchess of MacGowan, Elise MacGowan.”
“We’ve met,” the Marquis said coldly.
Elise inclined her head, hid the smile as best she could, and said something inane.