by Jackie Ivie
“I’ve nae desire to be anywhere near you, Elise.”
“You’re wasting your time,” she replied coldly.
“Nae, I’m not. I dinna’ say I’d be assisting you. I just said you had nae one else who would.”
“What do you want, then?”
He took a great, lung-expanding, chest-enlarging breath. Her eyes burned with watching it, and then her ears joined in with sound.
“To assure myself that I’m not a simple-minded whelp. To ken that my foolishness was na’ without cause. To remind myself that there were verra good reasons for wedding with you.” He stopped and pushed the rest of his breath out. “And to help me sleep. You’re a verra beautiful woman. Verra womanly. Verra.”
She gagged on the cry and fought the rush of goose-flesh along her limbs.
“It’s na’ difficult for any man, myself included, to see why I married you and why it’s affecting my sleep. I’m here now because it’s my own special hell that I have to ken for certain.”
“I care not how you sleep, or if you do,” she replied.
She sat in the chair closest to the fire, but at the present moment was so cold, she couldn’t feel it. She wished he’d leave, so she could crouch beside the flames. Or, now that she knew she’d be sleeping in her evening attire, she’d crawl beneath the heavy quilts and let them warm her. She knew it wouldn’t work, though. It wasn’t the chamber’s chill that she was suffering from.
“Why dinna’ you tell me of him, Elise?”
His whisper raised every bit of nerves she was fighting to still. Elise molded half-moons into her palms with her nails as she clenched her hands.
“I can understand hesitancy at first... when you kissed with me. I can even give you embarrassment at Barrigan’s. I suppose I can even give you Ipswich, but you could have said something at Crewe.”
His voice cracked. The hands beneath her blurred with the onslaught of tears. Elise hated the emotion and hated herself for being weak enough to have to suffer through it. She took several deep, even breaths and blinked the moisture away before she answered.
“Perhaps I was afraid of how you’d react, Your Grace. And look here, I wasn’t far wrong, either.”
“You think my treatment harsh?”
“Right now? No, but you do seem to have forgotten to bring along some of your Honor Guard. Perhaps you should open the door and invite some of them in.”
“Oh, I doona’ think so. I doona’ want observers at present.”
Elise knew it was her heart sinking this time. Her eyes widened to their fullest extent, and the hands on her lap shook. She had to clasp them together to stop the motion. She didn’t dare take her next breath for so long she started to feel faint. “Now, you’re wasting my time,” she said coldly.
“Since your time belongs to me, as everything else about you does, I fail to see waste. If I want to see you, I will. If I want to hold you, I will. If I want to use you to slake my lust, there’s none to stop me from doing so. You’re mine to do with as I see fit, remember?”
Oh, God! Elise screamed it silently and lost any pretense to the contrary. She held her hands over her eyes and shook.
‘That’s what a whore is good for. You ken that much.”
“Don’t do this, Colin ... please?” To her own ears, the plea sounded broken and defeated.
“You’ve na’ received permission to use my name. Doona’ do it again, or reap the penalty.”
Elise pulled her hands from her face and stood. She knew she was ashen. She knew, because it took an effort of will to stay upright. “You don’t want me, Your Grace. You don’t. I know you don’t.”
“How do you ken anything about me?”
“I...I have foisted a bastard on you, remember?”
His jaw tightened. “How can I forget?”
Then he was walking across the room toward her, looming larger the closer he got. Elise backed away until her feet were on the hearthstone. She couldn’t go any farther without getting burned, but she actually considered it. She opened her mouth and started talking.
“His name is Rory. He’s eight months old. He was born at the Wyndham Villa in Monte Carlo last summer. There is no record of his birth. I thought it best... for all concerned.”
Her words stopped his advance. Elise watched the conflicting emotions cross his face. The closed, unreadable one was replaced by such loathing, she arched from it, the back-cracking motion stopping only when she reached the mantel.
Colin swore and spewed his Gaelic words before spinning about. Elise watched him pace her chamber; turning once he reached the door to glare at her.
“Damn you, Elise MacGowan. Damn you, and your ilk, to hell.”
The door slammed, reverberating through the room. She found she preferred his Honor Guard, after all.
~ ~ ~
Colin had ordered a privy chamber constructed in the corner of her prison. Elise looked at it without any emotion; she’d spent every last bit of that last night, after Colin had left.
They’d awakened her at dawn, and a strange maid had assisted her into a plain skirt and blouse. It hadn’t been comfortable sleeping in her corset and all the clothing beneath it, but things could have been worse. Colin might have stayed, and then where would she be?
Elise knew where she’d be. She’d been fighting thoughts of it all night. She’d be at Colin’s side, in his arms, and in his bed.
Whereas two nights ago, when it had been her wedding night, she’d longed to surprise Colin with her virginity, now she was doing her utmost to keep it from him. He’d not know the truth from her lips or her body. His treatment of her had sealed that vow. He didn’t deserve to know that secret.
“Elise? You slept well?” Daisy poked her finger through the scrollwork as she asked it.
Elise walked over to her. “Passably. What happened with Nanny? I thought Rory was everything to her.”
“She complained once too often. I couldn’t keep her silent. I tried. Please don’t think I didn’t try.”
“That’s a silly request, Daisy. I know my husband’s ways. He’s a harsh man. A barbarian. A brute. A boor. And all those other B words I used so long ago. He’s reverting further the longer we travel north, too. He’s a harsh man from a harsh world. I was a fool to forget it. You’re not overburdened by yourself?”
“I’ve four housemaids assisting. The duke hired them away from Castle Kinlochlan for the rest of the journey. It’s actually quite crowded over here.”
And too public, Elise finished in her thoughts, before sucking on her tongue.
Colin MacGowan was a worthy adversary. He either didn’t wish Elise to have any company, or he was aware that she’d try to escape him if given a chance. Either way, she’d lost her confidante for the time being but had gained some insight.
Colin MacGowan wasn’t a man easily thwarted.
They separated the train at Glasgow. Daisy described it for her. The only view from her side of the car was of rain-blurred trees, caressed by a low-lying mist that seemed to be held in the air by drizzle. It made the forest look more sinister than it could possibly be. Daisy told her there were eight more cars lined up behind another engine. The extravagance was stunning. Nothing the Wyndham family had could compete.
“They’re sending Rory on ahead, Elise! What am I to do? He’s lost Nanny, and he doesn’t know anyone here. He’s crying. Here, baby, that’s a love.”
Elise heard Rory’s cries, but she couldn’t do anything through a wooden wall. She was losing Daisy. She’d shown how much that would matter to her, and now he was using it. She shouldn’t begrudge it. She was the one who’d given His Grace the weapon to use.
“You’ll accompany him, of course. I can make do without a maid for the time being. It will be rough, but I’ve managed before.”
“I can’t leave you alone with him, Elise! Hush, Rory.”
“The baby’s already lost too many, Daisy. He knows you. He’ll be safe with you. I won’t listen to another word. Besides, I
’ll be right behind you, I will. I promise.”
Elise wasn’t so sure of her words when Mick came for her. The MacGowan train had been reduced to two cars, and the others were nowhere in sight. The closer she got to Colin’s carriage, the more worried she grew.
All about her there were big-boned, unkempt-looking horses and men wearing the MacGowan plaid. Elise didn’t bother to count, but the ranks of Colin’s men appeared to have doubled.
“Where is Rory?” Elise broke her vow of silence to ask it. She didn’t think he was going to answer for a moment. Then he looked down at her with something akin to pity on his face.
“The bairn is on his way to the castle with the bags and such. They’ll be there for days afore we arrive.”
For days? Elise set her lips and narrowed her eyes. “Was a guard sent with him?”
“The Honor Guard stays at the duke’s side. There’s outriders. He’ll be safe enough.”
“He sent my baby away without a guard, yet kept so many for his own use? You’ve got to stop him.”
“The bairn will be safe enough. None will attack the MacGowan train. The name’s too well known.”
“There’s nothing I would put past your country. There’s probably a robber behind every tree, and—and a kidnapper at every stop!”
Elise knew she was acting hysterically. She also knew it was horrid to consider, but she couldn’t stop the instant vision from catching her breath and twisting her belly with worry. What was to stop Rory from disappearing, and saving their laird at the same time? She didn’t know what Colin was capable of anymore.
She watched as Mick shrugged. “It will be safe. Come, you waste time. His Grace has to put in an appearance at the Castle Dunvargas yet today. It’s a long ride.”
“Why can’t we stay with the train?”
‘The tracks to Inverness go through Grampian Mountains. It’s rough country. The duke will stay to the valleys.”
“Why? Is it safer?”
Elise watched the man narrow his eyes and sigh heavily. He was probably attributing her fears to womanly weakness.
“I promise you it’s safe. The train runs year-round. Nothing happened to it getting here. Nothing will happen to it going back.”
“They weren’t carrying a baby, you backwater-bred idiot.”
He didn’t like that title. Elise could tell by the way he clenched his jaw as he opened the carriage door for her. She didn’t care.
“Go tell Colin—I mean, His Grace, that Rory isn’t just any baby! He’s Evan MacGowan’s illegitimate son. He’s too precious to be sent off like unwanted baggage. Go! Tell him. He can’t send that baby off without a guard. I won’t allow it.”
“That bairn ...is a MacGowan? He’s Evan MacGowan’s son? The duke’s brother, Evan?”
Mick was choking on the words and looking at Elise with such horror that she smirked. “I just told you he was.”
“And you said naught of it to the duke?”
“Oh, I had so much time for that in the stable building, now didn’t I? Don’t stand there like a dolt. Go and get an Honor Guard for Evan’s son. Worry about what His Grace says later! That’s an order.”
Elise couldn’t believe her eyes when Mick turned on his heels and ran from her. She glanced about quickly. Dressed as plainly as she was, no one seemed to be paying her any attention. Since she was also clad in calf-high boots that she’d been given that morning, the mud wasn’t a problem. She didn’t have any trouble getting around to the back of the carriage. She’d have called it luck, if she still believed in such a thing. What was it Roald had once penned? Nothing happens that isn’t meant to. They were going to be the words she lived by from now on.
She’d done what she had to, no matter the personal cost. She’d given Rory to them, and she’d made certain they knew who he was. There was nothing left to keep her. She didn’t even have to see Colin’s face when he found out.
She acted like there was nothing odd about taking a stroll to the edge of the woods. She knew the town of Glasgow awaited her on the other side of the trees, although she couldn’t see it, and Glasgow was well advanced, considering it was in Scotland. Elise should be able to access some of the Duchess of Wynd’s wealth. Even here, where it felt like the very ends of the civilized world, there was probably a bank willing to advance her Wynd funds, wasn’t there?
The foliage beneath her feet wasn’t as muddy or as damp as it was around the rail station. Elise hadn’t thought she’d be able to get away, and yet it was easy. She had to wait for her heart to calm, so she leaned against a tree.
The waste of time seemed stupid, but it was necessary. Colin would be searching for her, and he’d most likely look for her beyond the rail yard. He’d suspect she’d run. Any woman treated as she had been would be running. Elise forced herself to wait. A quarter hour passed, then another.
The woods about her were wet and quiet, instilling a sense of security. Although she was less than a hundred yards from the station, and all the MacGowan clan were there, it was still. Quiet. Safe. Elise had to hug herself to keep the joy inside. She was in charge of her own destiny again.
And she was almost free of Colin! Once she had seen a magistrate to make certain of it, anyway. She refused to decipher what the thick, hurtful pressure near her heart might mean. She felt nothing for Colin MacGowan anymore. He was as harsh and barbaric as his clime.
She’d forgotten about Daisy, though. Elise pushed from the tree and started walking, going down the gentle slope. She was going to have to wait to fetch Daisy. Rory needed the maid right now. Elise would send for her, once she was able to.
The forest floor was thick and wet. She appreciated the boots more the farther she walked. Her skirt was getting wet clear to the knees, but that couldn’t be helped. She couldn’t lift them. She had to use her hands to clear a path for herself.
The trees thinned, and she recognized rooftops through them. With any luck, she’d be in a warm bath, writing notes to her staff, before the sun set. Elise took another step, brushed aside foliage, and stopped, swaying back into place. She hoped her face didn’t show the severity of her disappointment.
The three MacGowan coaches sat on the roadway directly in front of her. Horses, their coats thick with unshed hair, milled about, and His Grace wasn’t hard to spot. He stood in his leisurely pose against the back wheel of his carriage.
Elise was starting to shake. She hadn’t realized how wet her outfit was becoming. From all about her, she could feel their censure. She did the only thing she could. She took a deep breath, lifted her head high, and stepped through the last of the greenery.
“It is lovely country, Your Grace, but a trifle damp,” she said loudly and unconcernedly, as she walked to his side.
“Get in. Now.”
He was livid. Elise didn’t need to look at him to know.
“Perhaps ...I’d best wait for assistance,” she stammered the words.
In reply, he gripped her about the waist, lifted her, and shoved her in. As much as she hid it from herself, the sensation from his touch had begun immediately. Why couldn’t it have been Sir Roald, or another of her men-friends? Getting that reaction from any of them would have been preferable to the Laird of the MacGowan!
Elise busied herself with arranging her skirts about herself. It wasn’t for effect, or to keep the wrinkling to a minimum, it was to put the driest sections against her legs. She wouldn’t let him know of it, though.
“We’ve more than two hours journey ahead of us. You’d best spend some of that time explaining, starting now. Right now.”
Elise ignored him and started rubbing her hands together for warmth. She’d been so stupid! She hadn’t waited long enough, and then she’d taken the direct path to Glasgow, when any woman in her boots would have done the same. She must not have wanted to escape.
Elise’s thoughts stalled.
I didn’t want to escape him? That couldn’t be true. It was too ludicrous to consider. She put her hands to her face and blew
warm air on them.
“Well?” The one word was harsh and biting.
“I’m not speaking to you, Your Grace.”
“Oh yes, you are. You’re na’ going to finish until you’ve explained everything.”
“Explanations are—” Elise started, but he interrupted her and filled the small enclosure with a slew of bitter words that wouldn’t stop.
“First, you’re going to explain what you’re doing with Evan’s son. You’re going to explain why you dinna’ tell me about him the very first moment you saw me. You’re going to convince me as to why you trapped me into a marriage. Even if we wed, the boy remains a bastard. You’re smart enough to know that.
“Then, you’re going to entertain me as to what it was that Evan saw in you. Ira? Yes. He always did know a good whore when he saw one. But Evan? Nae. Evan was intelligent. He was fastidious. He would na’ have given a woman like you his child, and then allowed you to carry it! We’ve got more than two hours in this bloody carriage, and you’re going to do a damn sight more than speak with me, woman!”
Elise had caught her breath in shock more than once throughout his speech, but she hadn’t interrupted. Her mind was in denial, but her ears heard every word. If she’d thought the space in her chest hurt before, she’d been a fool. It now felt like her heart was in someone’s fist, and every time it beat, they squeezed.
He hadn’t moved, but it felt like he’d grown in stature. Either that, or she was in serious danger of possessing an overactive imagination. His eyes weren’t green flecked or brown, either; they were an indecipherable shade of black. It was dim in the coach’s interior. Those strange dots hampered her vision again, too.
“I’m waiting, and I’ll na’ wait long. You doona’ do what you’ve done to me, or to Rory. You’re unfit to mother anyone.”
Elise wasn’t doing a good job of keeping her tears at bay. It could be due to her wet clothing, or her failure at escape. She could attribute it to her lack of sleep last night, or the experience of hearing what he thought of her. It could be a myriad of things. She didn’t have to feel cowed and weak and beaten, but she did. She couldn’t stop the stream of tears. She licked them from her upper lip.