by Jackie Ivie
The majordomo was the one who informed her that the duke and his men had left the hall. He must have taken pity on Elise’s face, for he offered to get her assistance. She waved it off. There wasn’t anything he, or anyone else, could do for her. All she could do was wait.
She couldn’t even cry.
Chapter 17
The summons came before the sun was up. Elise listened as Daisy answered the door.
“Her Grace is to proceed to the stable yard immediately.”
“But she isn’t dressed proper!” Daisy replied, in a scandalous tone.
That much was a lie. Elise was still wearing the silver-starred dress. It was wonderful fabric, too, just as she’d suspected, for there were few wrinkles. Then again, she’d not sat still long enough to test it.
“His Grace is na’ in a waiting mood, Miss. I’ve orders. Perhaps you’d best see to the bairn upstairs.”
“He won’t be awake yet. This is highly irregular.”
“I’ve orders,” he repeated.
Elise turned from watching the predawn light through her windows and walked to the door. “Don’t argue it, Daisy. See to Rory, please.”
Daisy’s mouth set in a thin line, and her eyes narrowed, but Elise ignored it. She turned to the man at the door. He was standing in the shadow of the hall. Elise was hard put to hide the instant cry. He stood more than a head above her and probably tripled her weight, too. He wasn’t pasty faced and fat, either. He was huge with muscle, unshaven, and dressed strangely.
Although she’d not seen it, she was certain she was looking at a clansman in full MacGowan regalia. She knew, without asking, that her presence wasn’t a request. It was an order, and it would be carried out by force, if necessary.
“See to Rory, Daisy. Thank you for staying with me all night. I shall let you know what the plans are as soon as I know them.”
Daisy’s expression mirrored every one of Elise’s emotions. She’d never felt so alone, lost, exhausted, and unsure. She only hoped she didn’t look it.
Elise started trembling before they reached the main landing. The man at her side wasn’t following any social strictures. He was escorting her by holding to her arm just above the elbow and propelling her down the steps at an unseemly pace, and then out the door with him.
Elise tripped on a clod of dirt turned up by the amount of horses in the yard. Her escort kept her from falling but didn’t slow his steps. Elise was left to stumble along until she was upright again. She had lost one of her glamorous evening shoes, and she was going to be bruised on her arm. The man didn’t even bother to notice.
She hadn’t been treated this roughly since she’d lived with her father. She was afraid it might show on her face, too. That, she wasn’t going to allow.
He didn’t stop at the stable yard. It would have been too confusing there for any kind of a meeting. He marched her into one of the outbuildings and dropped her arm. She heard the doors being shut and the long bolt being pulled behind her, but she didn’t dare look to verify it. She was determined that none would find her anything save gracious, calm, and as emotionless as ice, no matter what happened.
The last was closer to reality, for the mud she’d stepped in was cool on her bare toes. The straw beneath her felt cold, too. She could blame all of that for her continued shivering. As much as she tried to stop it, her trembling was obvious. That couldn’t be helped. Elise rubbed at her bruised arm as several lamps all about the rafters were brightened.
She was glad the motion had put her in a position to clasp her arms. It gave her something to hold on to. Elise held the gasp inside as more men than she could count pulled themselves upright from the walls to encircle her.
She thought her heart was going to pound its way right out of her breast. She’d promised herself not to show her fear, but it wasn’t working. She was being surrounded by men as strangely dressed as the first one had been, most sporting full beards, and all nearly matching Colin in height and weight. She felt like she’d been sent back several centuries in time for her sin. She didn’t know what the punishment was supposed to be, either.
“I want you to meet my Honor Guard, Elise. They’ve been shadowing me since I was reached in Darjeeling.”
“Colin?”
Two of the men swiveled, and Colin stepped through them. He wasn’t dressed like the others. It made him stand out more. Deep lines appeared to score his cheeks, and his lip was curled a bit in derision. It could have been the lamplight, but Elise knew different.
“If I gave you leave to use my name, I’m rescinding it. Women of your ilk are na’ fit for such.” He’d reverted to such a thick brogue, it wasn’t easy to understand all of it.
“It isn’t as you think, Colin! It—”
“If she speaks again, silence her.”
Dead quiet greeted his softly spoken words, and Elise’s eyes widened. He wouldn’t dare! “You don’t understand! You’ve got to give me time to explain. I’m not—”
He’d gestured slightly with his head as soon as she’d begun. It felt like iron bars seized her from behind, stopping her plea. She was dragged backward and slammed against what had to be a chest; then a wad of material was forced into her mouth.
Elise’s eyes filled as they gagged her. She didn’t move a bit while the cloth was wrenched tight behind her head. She kept her eyes on the duke and let the tears slip from her eyes.
“That’s better. I doona’ listen to lying whores. Not anymore. You, Madame, have set back my opinion of the fairer sex more than any woman alive. I thought I knew of your type from Ira. I thought I’d be able to recognize one when I met up with her. I was a fool. And now I get to pay. My entire clan does.”
He stepped closer to her. The light didn’t allow one bit of illumination to touch his eyes. They didn’t look warm or cold. Elise tried to maintain eye contact with him, hoping he’d read what she couldn’t tell him. The effort made her eyes burn, but she refused to blink.
“Go ahead, hate me. I’ve little care. It’s nae more than I feel for you right now.”
She blinked as rapidly as possible but couldn’t stay the flood of fresh tears at the ugly words. She knew he saw it, for he sneered.
“My oldest brother always kept a wench or two. Often, he’d share his women with any man willing to risk the pox. I was na’ that desperate. I thought them lying, unscrupulous, black-hearted, and filthy. I actually hold them in higher regard than I do you.”
“No!” Elise screamed the denial through her gag, although little could be heard.
“You doona’ do what you did to me, Elise.”
She shook her head vehemently until his image bobbed with the motion. You’re wrong, Colin! So wrong! Please don’t do this to me! I can explain Rory! Please? Her mind was shouting the words at him, and he must have known of it. He frowned, and the look on his face was like he’d smelled something repugnant.
“If she can na’ be quiet this way, silence her further.”
His soft words frightened her more than anything else. Elise stopped trying to communicate and actually pushed back into the man holding her.
“You can foist a bastard on a thousand men, but na’ the Laird of the MacGowan. Our thirst for vengeance goes back centuries. It’s the one thing I’m counting on. Right here. Right now. I want you to know this.”
Elise couldn’t look at him any longer. She was afraid he’d see the absolute terror she couldn’t hide. She bent her head, although it pulled the hair trapped behind her, and looked down at the beautiful silver dress. She watched as a tear splashed onto the fabric, staining it, just as she’d guessed it would. She didn’t care. The beauty of the abbey and the sanctity of her wedding felt like they’d happened to someone else.
He spoke again, as if reading her thoughts.
“Perhaps you should ha’ thought of all this before weddin’ with me last night. Now, you’re my property by law—any man’s law, even English law. I can do whatever I wish with you, and none will stay me.”
; She squeezed her lids shut and shook with the reaction. She didn’t care that they all saw.
“Get her from my sight. Put her in the rail car with the bastard. Send Quorn our apologies for na’ staying. And, Martin? Try na’ to bruise her overmuch.”
Elise had to remind herself that she’d never fainted in her life. It was a luxury she couldn’t afford, she used to tell herself. She knew it must feel like the strange needles of sensation pricking her nose and the queasiness of her stomach as the man named Martin marched her to the MacGowan coach. He didn’t like touching her, she could tell. It was apparent from the scowl on his face and how he held her a good forearm’s length from him.
The sun had come up, but it was still early. Elise knew it was useless to cry out. All those about the stable yard wore the MacGowan red, green, and black plaid. None of Storth Hall’s guests would be awake this early, and it was doubtful the servants would interfere.
If she had wanted to flee, it would have been impossible. There were at least two dozen of Colin’s Honor Guard about her, too. Martin stopped. The coach door was opened; she was picked up by the waist and set onto the floor of it. Then the door was shut, a bolt thrown, and the horses started up.
Elise tore at the material about her head, until she realized it was a slipknot and came undone easily. Why had he had it done that way, and why had they used one of Colin’s embroidered handkerchiefs?
She sat on the floor of the carriage, buried her face into the material, and wept.
Elise was in command of herself when the carriage halted an hour later. She wasn’t going to let anyone guess at what had happened to her. It was going to be her newest secret, and she was very good at keeping those. She was stupid to have told Colin any of her past secrets. She was stupid to have trusted him with anything. He was proving himself to be everything she’d already been told that he was. How had she forgotten about Evangeline? Her sister had told her often enough of the MacGowans’ callousness, their judgmental nature, and their heartless ways. Elise should have been a quicker study.
Colin’s train consisted of four cars and an engine. Elise sat in the carriage for what was left of the morning and watched the loading. She didn’t wonder over her treatment. She was a prisoner, and they’d bolted her in to make certain she knew of it.
The first car appeared to contain baggage, whereas the second was given over to Colin’s servants. Some of them were members of his Honor Guard. Elise was certain of it, although they weren’t dressed in tartan anymore.
The third car was where they put Nanny, Rory, and Daisy. Elise pulled back from the carriage window as Daisy glanced her way. She had rarely been able to keep anything from the maid before, but she was determined to keep this to herself.
The end car was the one reserved for The MacGowan and his family. She knew it without watching all the flowers, food, and activity about it. Colin’s car was more ornate than the others and gleamed with fresh black paint. Elise had to shut her eyes when she saw his trunks being loaded.
She could tell when they were readying the engine, too, for more steam than before came from the engine. The whistle blew loudly, causing her to jump. Then she saw the contingency of men coming toward her. Colin didn’t need to send so many guards for her. What did he think her?
Elise put her hands to her mouth to still the cry. She already knew exactly what he thought of her. She pushed her hair off her face with hands that trembled. She didn’t like wearing it down. She’d have to ask Daisy to help her pin it up.
The bolt pulled, and Elise put her aloof facade in place. She kept her eyes above their heads as they opened the door, and then she slid out without assistance.
“I can walk,” she informed them.
She was ignored as one of them gripped her upper arm and made her stumble along at his pace. It wasn’t the one called Martin. The rail yard didn’t have the same soft mud as Quorn’s stables. Elise set her jaw further as she bore the brunt of the pace on her shoeless foot. If he noticed her limping, it didn’t show, for he didn’t pause.
She already knew which car she’d be assigned to. There wasn’t any other choice. Elise scraped her instep on a rough piece of the ladder step into the third car but hid the sharp gasp of pain. Her escort didn’t appear to note it, for he released her arm the moment she gained the floor, and then pushed her skirts inside to slide the door closed. She heard the lock being turned behind her.
Elise took stock of her prison. The car had been divided into two separate parts by a beautifully carved, wooden screen. Elise noted that it had been attached to the wall on both sides, but she could see through some of the scrollwork to the other side.
I’m not even allowed the companionship of others? she wondered. Oh, Colin was going to regret it when he found out the truth. She just hoped that she was as far from him as possible when he did, too!
“Elise? I’ve died a hundred deaths, I swear it! He hasn’t mistreated you, has he?”
Daisy’s whisper brought a wince to Elise’s face. She limped to the wall. “I’m fine, Daisy, just fine. He’s a bit angry with me, is all.”
“Did you tell him?”
“He didn’t give me the chance.”
“I’ll tell his man.”
“Oh no, you won’t. I forbid it, do you understand? Let him think exactly what he does. I rather like it this way. It keeps him away from me.” Elise colored her voice with the proper amount of anxiety. Daisy knew only of Elise’s fear of men; she knew nothing of last night and the wedding.
“I’ll not say a word. I promise,” the maid said.
“I’d like to rest now, I think.”
Their words had gotten louder as the train had begun moving. Elise didn’t know that train travel came with such an abrasive sound. She hoped Rory wouldn’t be disturbed by it, especially as Colin had made certain she’d not be able to comfort or hold him.
She stopped the tears that welled up. It was just self-pity now, and she’d not bow to that. Colin may say she was his property, but he was wrong. With the right magistrate and enough gold, Elise could get an annulment easily enough. They hadn’t consummated anything.
Her prison had a long bench against the wall, but nothing else. It had cushions on it, though. She wondered if that was for her comfort, or if he’d forgotten to order their removal.
Elise lay on her bench, watched the ceiling of the car above her swaying, and tried not to think.
Chapter 18
The train halted at a town called Preston. Elise had two windows, both facing the side opposite from the town. She watched as the coal was loaded and heard the activity beyond the wall. They were allowing Daisy and Nanny out for a comfort stop, but not the new duchess? She narrowed her eyes and sat back down on her bench.
Her bolt lifted, the door slid open, and a hamper was shoved in.
“With His Grace’s compliments.”
It was Mick, Colin’s personal servant. Elise turned her head to the wall until she heard the bolt fall. Then she moved. Stubbornness wasn’t going to help her now. She limped over to the basket. She didn’t dare eat, but a few sips of water wouldn’t matter. There were freshly baked buns, a slice of warm ham, a napkin, and a flagon of liquid. She wrinkled her nose when she tasted the lemonade, but that made it easier to take just two swallows. She replaced the container, put the cloth back over the feast, and returned to the bench.
When the others had feasted and returned to the other half of the car, Mick came back for the basket. Elise kept her eyes on the wood wall.
“His Grace has made arrangements to stay at Castle Kinlochlan. ’Tis just across the border.”
“Why tell me?” she asked.
“Orders. Prepare yourself for when we arrive.”
With what? Into what? Using what privy closet to relieve myself? She almost said the bitter questions aloud, but instead bit her tongue. She’d rather starve. She heard Colin’s man sigh, and then heard the sound of her prison door closing and locking again.
Nothing happe
ns by chance. Elise had been told that by Sir Roald in one of his sonnets. It wasn’t true. It couldn’t be. She’d wanted Rory to be with the MacGowan clan. That was where he belonged. But had she truly created this ignoble situation in order to make that happen? It was too ludicrous to consider.
The train started back up, and she ran a tongue over her teeth, tasting the bitter residue of lemonade. Colin should have simply sent water. He was an inconsiderate jailer, too.
~ ~ ~
Lord Kinley’s carriages were waiting at the station. Elise had Daisy to thank for that information, and more. They’d arrived at Carlisle Station in good time. Rory was enjoying the swaying of the train and was turning into an excellent traveler. Nanny was complaining a bit about her gout; otherwise, all was fine.
Daisy kept Elise informed through the scrollwork. Elise hadn’t asked. She’d tried to sleep in the three hours since Preston. It hadn’t worked. Her foot had started throbbing, along with her headache, her stomach was rebelling at lack of sustenance, and the only thing keeping that sensation at bay was the need to relieve herself. She couldn’t recall ever being so miserable.
She didn’t bother to ready herself, as she’d been ordered. It hadn’t seemed necessary. She thought she’d have plenty of time, once they stopped. In the span of a few hours, she was getting used to being treated as an afterthought. The lock turning surprised her, and she had to struggle into a sitting position to face the door. She shoved the ungroomed mass of hair off her shoulders at the same time.
“I’m to see you to the laird’s carriage.”
Mick spoke from outside the car. He was waiting at the steps, so only the upper third of his body was in her doorway.
“Perhaps you’d best put me in some other conveyance,” she replied.
“Orders.”
Elise set her jaw. She was learning to dislike that word. “Oh, very well. Let’s not tarry, then.”
She stood, and the blood rushing to her scraped foot made it almost too tender to bear her weight. She limped over to the door and held to the frame of it while the strange dots in front of her vision cleared. Her innards pained so much, she couldn’t stand upright. She wondered how she was going to be able to withstand a carriage ride.