Elise

by Jackie Ivie

  “Can’t you just get me a dog, or something?” she asked.

  “I will na’ allow an abduction.”

  “Excuse me?” she asked.

  “We can afford the ransom. They can na’. That’s how we got in this predicament in the first place. I’ll na’ entertain this feud. It’s gone on long enough, and I only sport if there’s a fairness to it. If one side does na’ play, the game is over. True?”

  “Since I don’t know what we’re discussing, I can hardly answer that in an intelligent fashion. Ask me something I can reply to.”

  “Verra well. How do you know the term Sassenach?”

  Elise’s heart stopped for a moment, and then beat the blood fully into her cheeks. If she hadn’t a headache already, she would have received one from that. She just hoped the flush wasn’t as pronounced as it felt. “I have a maid with an uncertain temperament,” she replied, hoping the warble of her voice wasn’t as it sounded in her ear. “She’s not fond of anything English and is not quiet with her sentiments.”

  “I’ll replace her. Come along now. I’ve upset you over naught.”

  “Do I have a choice?”

  “Nae, you doona. Now, obey like a good lass, before I have to come up with another punishment.”

  “Obey?” she repeated. She could learn to hate that word, too.

  In a few minutes, she’d lost her composure more times then she could count, lost her new ally, Lydia, and gained the Laird of MacGowan at her side every moment. She was in luck that Torquil hadn’t told her anything else about his plans.

  ~ ~ ~

  “Must you do that?”

  Colin looked over at her; he kept his gaze on her for several moments, before turning away and continuing his contortions as if she’d said nothing. Elise was forced to look back down at her book.

  Dunvargas boasted a well-stocked library and an efficient staff. Elise hadn’t any trouble picking out a few books that might not bore her too much. The large cotton nightgown and massive bed she was residing in were conducive to reading. She’d propped at least five pillows behind her, before setting the tome atop her knees. All of it was wasted. The book wasn’t keeping her interest.

  The banquet had gone well, earlier. If anyone reported to a newspaper, the article should be favorable. Elise had kept fairly quiet, allowing the wine to soothe her headache. She’d been placed between the duchess and a minor baron at her other side. She’d been aware of Colin the entire time, although he was more than eight place settings down at the other end, next to the Dunvargas laird, as was his place of honor.

  She’d caught his eye on her more than once, too. He’d probably been checking his property, she’d thought in disgust.

  The sliver of his shadow caught her eye on the wall beside her, breaking her reverie. She glanced sidelong at him again. He was wearing his calf-length knickers and doing those strange exercises again. As slowly as he was moving, it shouldn’t have brought a sheen of moisture to coat his chest, but it was there. Elise was angry at herself for noticing.

  She looked back to the colorful drawings. She’d thought a picture book might keep her entertained. She should have known better. She shut it and put it on top of the others at her side. Then she folded her hands together on her knees and smirked at Colin.

  “What are you doing, anyway?” she asked.

  He stopped in a bent-knee position and looked down his arm at her. She caught her breath as he brought her into focus.

  “It’s called tai chi chuan.”

  Elise repeated it, then remarked, “That doesn’t sound very Indian to me.”

  “It is na’. It’s an ancient form of self-improvement from China.”

  “You’ve been in China, too?”

  “My houseboy was. Amazing chap. Won me at hand to hand, easily. Became my instructor. Took seven years to get the basics.”

  He turned his head away, put his other arm out, and went back to ignoring her. She watched as he tipped his hand up and down gracefully.

  “Seven years? Why would it take so long? The most intricate dance steps take less than a Season.”

  Colin sighed, then stood out of his crouch. He turned to her and lowered his head to pierce her with his gaze. Elise’s eyes widened, and she couldn’t look away from any part of his muscled, gleaming torso. She told herself it wasn’t entirely her fault. He was breathing hard, and since he had nothing on his upper body, she had nowhere else to look.

  “Why are you interrupting me?” he asked finally.

  “I couldn’t sleep.”

  “I thought you were reading. That was the reason behind persuading Dunvargas to show his library, was na’ it? Or were you trying for another reaction from him?”

  “Like what?”

  “You’re a beautiful woman with a black past and a hard heart. You’re also a notorious flirt. Dunvargas is a lecherous old goat with an ugly wife. Do I need to go on?”

  “You’ve a jaundiced viewpoint, Your Grace.”

  “That’s hardly surprising, if you think on it. I’m wed to you, are na’ I?” he answered.

  “I’m sorry I interrupted you. You may return to your contortions. I went to the library because I wanted a good book, and for no other reason.”

  “Why are you bothering me, then?”

  “I didn’t pick interesting books, I guess, and I’m not tired.”

  “Are you as efficient at reading as you are at sewing? That could be the problem.”

  Elise lifted her chin. “I read fine. I simply haven’t had to read with shadows continually falling across the pages. It makes it difficult to concentrate.”

  “Strange that you should bring up that word. It takes severe concentration in order to practice tai chi chuan. You broke into mine twice that I recall. I will na’ be able to simply pick it back up.”

  “Do you want me to apologize?” she asked.

  “Nae, I think I’d rather you entertain me.”

  Elise gasped, then spoke quickly to cover it up. “I beg your pardon?”

  “Oh, you hear perfectly. Entertainment. Mine. I’m afraid I’m yours for what’s left of the night, tomorrow during our visit to the sights of Glasgow, tomorrow night, and so on, and so forth.”

  “Is it too late to have a different MacGowan at my side? I wouldn’t take your loss personally, I guarantee it.”

  “I’d na’ let another man this near you. It would be stupid. I’m the Laird of the MacGowan clan. We’re well-known. We’re a political and financial stronghold in this country. One of my ancestors was a member of The Bruce’s court. I’ve a reputation to uphold.”

  “If I haven’t apologized yet for interrupting you at your outlandish self-improvement exercises, please allow me to do so now. I’ve changed my mind. I think I’m quite tired, too, after all.” Elise rolled to the edge of the bed to turn down her lamp.

  “And, despite this polite little conversation we’re enjoying and your beautifully acted camaraderie with me earlier, I will na’ let another man near you, because I’m still na’ fond of claiming bastards.”

  She hooded her eyes and left the lamp be. She turned back to him and smiled falsely. “It’s true what they say, isn’t it?”

  “Enlighten me,” he replied.

  “A Scotsman never forgets.”

  “You’re a quick study, are na’ you?”

  “And you’re a stubborn, self-righteous, judgmental fool.”

  “Glad to see I’ve risen in your esteem.”

  “I must have said it wrong. Let me rephrase it.” Elise opened her mouth to do so, but he forestalled her with his next words and actions.

  “Doona’ bother.” Colin flopped onto the bottom of the bed. Several of her books fell off at the same time. Elise jumped. “I already know what, and how, you think me, and you know what I think of you. What I want to know is how do you feel about me?”

  How did she feel about him? Elise’s eyes widened.

  She did her best to keep the reaction out of her voice. She feigned a yawn fir
st. “I’m very tired all of a sudden, and this little talk is boring me. You’ll not mind if I just close my eyes a bit and rest, will you?”

  “I’ve gone over it hundreds of times in my mind, and I can na’ figure it. What is it about you, Elise? There are a lot of women in the world. I’ve known lots of them. Some as breathtakingly beautiful as you, some of amazing intellect, and yet I find myself drawn to you. Why? Despite what a conniving bitch you’ve proved yourself to be, I close my eyes and I see you. I listen and I hear you. It’s akin to a humming sound. I’m beginning to think that if I liked, I could concentrate and I’d be able to feel you. I studied mysticism because it fell into my life. It was Karma. I believe in the power of it. The problem is, you clearly doona’. You doona’ believe in anything. So why is it you that does these things to me?”

  Elise gulped. “I’m sorry. I quit listening after the conniving part. What was it you were saying?” She had to school herself to get through the entire sentences. Her breath had been stolen by his reference to the humming sound, and the gooseflesh running over her entire body was impossible to hide.

  He sighed hugely and rolled over to look at the ceiling. Elise watched him.

  “Sometimes in India, when the moon is just right, you can feel something. Call me fanciful, but there’s a vitality and spirit to that place that can na’ be ignored. It’s in my veins now and forever will be. I can na’ wash it out. It’s like Scotland. There’s a pulse beneath this soil that’s impossible to ignore. It’s like taking a huge breath and never letting it out. It’s the smell of peat and damp, and it’s the odor of wood fires and fresh bread and heather. It’s the smell of all that is life—the joy and the pain. It’s the throb of living. It’s in the rain and the mist. It’s even in the snow. It’s the smell of renewal, the voice of heroism and bravery, the taste of adoration, and it’s the feel of cold stone and warm blood! There’s naught else on earth like it. You feel any of that?”

  “Any of what?” she asked, between a heartbeat, and with such a carefully studied tone, she was absolutely amazed to hear it herself.

  He tossed out his arms. One landed atop her ankle. Elise didn’t dare move, in case he’d notice. Then he sighed again, heavier than before. She watched his chest rise and fall with it.

  “Then there’s the blackness. The indecision. The path that’s chosen but not lighted along the way. I doona’ know why I bother talking to you. Oh yes, I do. It’s late. And you’re a goddess. That’s right, I’ve got a goddess in my bed. She’s sheathed in ice but formed with perfection, and she spews hate-filled words at me, instead of welcoming me with her lips, and her body, and her softness, and her warmth and moisture—”

  He swore, sat up, and slid to the side of the bed. She couldn’t make her eyes move from him as he stood with his back to her and adjusted the drawers about his waist. Then he went back to the spot in the center of the floor and began speaking in an emotionless tone.

  “Tai chi chuan has been around for centuries. It can take decades to master it. I’m only a beginner. I dinna’ have the luxury of studying full-time, although I would have liked to. I was supposed to be soldiering, remember?”

  “Why learn it, then?” she asked.

  “Because it was Karma. It fell into my life. Then again, my houseboy beat me, time and again. And he was a little snippet of a fellow na’ much larger than yourself. He won me at every physical contest we tried. I dinna’ have a choice. I wanted to know why. I wanted what he had. He made me start at the beginning. You’ve seen my meditation?”

  “I’m not sure,” she answered, when he stopped and waited.

  “I practiced it in the carriage ride yesterday... or was it the day afore?”

  “The day before,” she answered.

  “See? You do remember. I’m just a beginner at that, too. Mick found my teacher. He was a Holy Man. That’s the highest caste you can be born into in India.”

  “Caste?”

  “India has a caste system, rather like this English society with its peerages and lower classes. Only India’s is more structured, more brutal. Who your parents are is who you are. If your father is one of the laborer caste, then so are you. Your friends will be laborers and your wife will be one. If you dare wed outside of your caste, then you nae longer exist to anyone. You become an Untouchable and are treated as if you’re invisible.”

  “It sounds brutal.”

  “Worse than me, perhaps?”

  Elise let his question stand for some moments. Then she picked up another of her books and practiced ignoring him. “This is all very fascinating, Your Grace. Perhaps you could start your tai chi chuan and allow me to resume reading.”

  He still wasn’t facing her. Elise watched the muscles in his back and shoulders as he flexed his arms high above his head and started rotating them. Nothing in print could hold her interest from that. She didn’t think he was going to answer her.

  “You’re a bit of an expert at changing subjects, and avoiding confrontation, I’ve noticed. It’s an affectation I hope you outgrow.”

  The lamp’s light tossed the man before her into relief on the far wall. The book lay forgotten in her lap as he angled himself sideways to the floor, and then supported his entire weight on one bent arm. Elise couldn’t believe what she was seeing. She’d guessed at his strength, but actually witnessing it was stealing her breath and causing her acute emotional and physical distress.

  There was no other word for the waves of reaction that flowed over her. Elise closed her eyes, and with each breath she tried to diffuse it. She could feel the beads of sweat gathering at her forehead and in the small of her back. Her breasts felt heavier, like they belonged to someone else, some wanton Elise who had nothing to do with the real one.

  What is happening to me?

  She cried it silently. There was no answer.

  “Perhaps you should learn this, too.” She opened her eyes slowly and wasn’t surprised to see Colin standing upright, facing her again. He was beaded with moisture and glared at her with that greenish brown gaze of his. “Aside from being a system of self-defense, it’s unequaled at relieving frustration.”

  “Frustration?” The word should have choked her.

  “Aye, frustration. Surely you’ve experienced it at least once in your life.”

  “I’m not sure. Describe it,” Elise said.

  “Everything came too easy for you. That’s the real issue, is na’ it?”

  “If you’re describing the word, you’re off the mark, Your Grace.”

  He lowered his head to look at her through his eyelashes. The move put two furrows in his brow. Elise had never seen anything to compare him against. Her pulse told her of it.

  “Frustration is a human condition. Want. Need. Desire. Lack of fulfillment. Yearning and stifling of the same with no end in sight.”

  “Are you . . . frustrated, Your Grace?” Elise’s voice caught midway through the question. She knew exactly what Colin had been talking about. She always had.

  The humming was so loud, it blended with the heartbeats in her ears.

  “Are you willing to accept me into your bed? Allow me your body, as your man, your mate, and your lover?” The words were flavored with his brogue. She could tell he knew the answer before she gave it.

  If she’d not met Torquil? If Colin hadn’t reacted like he had to Rory? If Elise didn’t have one goal in mind, and one only?

  “No.” Elise’s reply was more a groan, and she tore her gaze away.

  “Then, yes, I’m damned frustrated.”

  Chapter 23

  “What is this, please?”

  Elise asked it as she stopped at the threshold of their tower room; her action was so abrupt, Colin ran into her from behind. She didn’t wish to know what his arm felt like about her waist, but she found out as he wrapped it about her to stop their forward movement.

  “What is what? It’s our room. We left it but five hours ago.” His voice wasn’t amused.

  “There’s a hipbath.�
� Elise pointed it out beside the fireplace.

  “So it is. Come along. I can na’ shut the door with you in it. It’s against the principles of nature.”

  Elise frowned. He was making light of what wasn’t. “I’m not bathing tonight,” she said, in a tight, low tone.

  “Of course, you are. You bathe every day.”

  “How would you know?”

  “Your water does na’ appear and disappear by magic. I have to order it,” he replied.

  He had to move her out of the door’s path. Her own feet weren’t moving. Elise heard the resultant click of the latch. She gulped. “I can bathe in the morning.”

  “We leave for the station at first light. It’s over two hours by carriage.”

  “I’m not bathing, and that’s final.”

  “You are, and I’m na’ arguing it. Turn around.”

  “You are not going to take the place of a lady’s maid, either.”

  “Cease the woman-words. It will na’ stay this.” He was deftly undoing her hooks as he spoke.

  “You’re not to touch me. I won’t allow it.”

  Colin made a sound like a snort and shoved the top of her dress down over her shoulders.

  “You can unhand me. I’ll not stand idly while you— you—”

  “While I what?” he interrupted. “I already told you I’ll na’ take a woman by force. You fear for naught and waste good air on the argue. I’m giving assist because I’ve seen when you lack it. You’ve a corset on? Bother that. You’re small enough. This is extremely wasteful, and stupid besides. Some poor whale has lost his life so you could be pinched in two ... and what? Be smaller than your dress? What seamstress designs fashion such as this?”

  “I’ve lost weight,” Elise replied.

  “Then why wear the damned thing?”

  “Because it’s the proper thing to do.”

  He sighed in an exaggerated fashion. “Verra well, stay your woman-words while I unlace it.”

  Elise busied herself with pulling the cap sleeves over her hands and let the bodice drop onto the skirt overlay. “Trust a Scot to call an argument woman-words. It isn’t me standing in your chamber and assisting you with your disrobing against your wishes. Seems you’d have a better understanding of why if that were the case.”