Mated By The Demon Collections: Paranormal Romance

by Riley Moreno

  ‘You cannot refuse my gift,’ he said.

  ‘Where did you appear from?’ Elise asked, surprised and agitated.

  ‘I was in the carriage listening to your repeated refusals to accept my gift.’

  ‘But…my laird…why would you want me to have this very grand harp when I have one of my own?’

  ‘Because last night you more than earned it. You conquered it.’

  ‘What will your father say? Or your mother?’

  ‘It is mine,’ Raibert said firmly, ‘And you shall have it.’

  ‘And what if I refuse?’ Elise asked hesitantly.

  ‘Then I will throw it in that loch over there,’ Raibert answered, his lips strained and white.

  ‘What makes you so angry?’ Elise asked, her voice trembling, but Raibert had turned and stomped away, unwilling to let her know that he was merely overcome by his feelings for her. And yes, he was angry with fate that he had not met her before the day of his betrothal.

  When Elise turned to go back into the cottage, she had four pairs of enquiring eyes on her – her father Angus leaning on his crutches, Seonaid still clutching a rolling pin in her hand, Mairi and Brody, all eyed her questioningly.

  ‘That man has his eye on ye, he does,’ Angus said angrily, ‘And I will not allow him to get within an inch of you.’

  Seonaid attempted to wipe the look of extreme alarm off her face. ‘My child,’ she said, ‘this cannot augur well for us. We will have the Campbell’s fury to tackle and nobody to back us up, poor as we are, if Raibert persists in paying court to you in this manner.

  ‘Mama!’ Elise exclaimed in exasperation, ‘He is not paying court. He merely gave me the harp I played last night because he appreciated the way I made music with it…that’s all.’

  ‘Do you honestly think that is the reason he came here himself, risking people finding out about his visit to our home, if his obvious feelings for you didn’t make him foolish and reckless?’ Seonaid remarked and Elise ignored her. ‘Brody,’ she addressed her brother, ‘Please help me carry this very heavy harp to the parlour. It can stay there until we decide how it should be returned.’

  Back at Armadale Castle, the frail Isobel called to her maid and asked to see her son.

  ‘He had gone riding, my lady,’ the maid answered.

  ‘I saw him leave in a carriage,’ Isobel replied, ‘I was at the window when he left.’

  ‘Yes my lady, and he returned some minutes ago… and rode off on his horse thereafter, quite upset, it would seem.’

  ‘Oh,’ Isobel replied, a feeling of doom settling over her shoulders. Keeping to her bed had awakened some manner of psychic ability within her and Isobel could feel the onset of unrest, perhaps even war.

  ‘Please tell Raibert that I must see him the moment he returns,’ Isobel said. The maid nodded and curtseyed in reply.

  Raibert eased his horse to a canter as he descended a heather clad slope to a pristine blue loch nestling in the folds of the hills. He dismounted and sat down by the loch, waiting. She would come – he just knew that she would. The sun slipped in and out of the clouds, so that the loch was blue one moment and grey the next, the shifting colours like the extreme confusion in Raibert’s mind.

  In the Gardyne’s cottage, Elise escaped the prying eyes of her siblings and sat down on her bed, facing away from the door. In the palm of one hand was a small scrap of paper that she had found between the strings of the harp. She unfolded it and smoothed out the lines, reading the words with a rapidly pounding heart. ‘Elise, come to the Loch Affric. I must speak with you.’

  She must not change her clothes or that would draw undue attention to the reason she was leaving the cottage, Elise thought, as she shouted out to Seonaid that she was going to the local market to make some purchases with some of her recent earnings. She hurried away, glad that the loch was not too far afield and that she would be there before her courage failed her.

  Raibert watched her as she walked down the hill and restrained himself from running to greet her. Instead he sauntered towards her approaching form. When Elise reached the spot where he was waiting, the two stood and stared at each other, words eluding them.

  ‘What do you want of me?’ Elise asked.

  ‘Why does a lad ask a lass to meet him in a remote place? And why does a lassie come as she is bidden? Raibert countered her question.

  ‘We are from different worlds, not to mention clans who have been at war with each other. And you are to be wed to another. I only came as you bid me to, to end this once for all.’ Elise’s voice trembled as she spoke.

  ‘Your words lack veracity and conviction,’ Raibert remarked, taking a step towards Elise. She backed away from him, though unable to drag her gaze away from his windswept hair, falling in generous waves to his shoulders, and his body from which emanated an intoxicating heat.

  Raibert pulled her into his arms, crushing her against him; his tartan kilt an inadequate shield for what lay beneath.

  ‘Please…,’ Elise reasoned, ‘Do not use your position to have your way with me and then cast me aside.’

  ‘You are here, are you not?’

  ‘Only because I perceive you to be a kind man beneath the hard veneer you are so keen to exhibit at every turn.’

  ‘And you say this to dissuade me from sating my thirst with you?’ Raibert’s voice was gruff and unsteady. He pulled her closer, crushing her breasts against the muscles of his chest.

  ‘Please…do not lay your hands on me, I ask you,’ Elise said, maintaining her composure.

  ‘And what will you do if I fail to comply with your request? Will you scream for help or will you succumb?’

  Elise pulled herself free of his steely embrace and addressed him from a few feet away. ‘I am going to leave now. Please do not pursue this any further. You are betrothed, and even if you were not, there would be little chance of anything between us. I see that you are accustomed to having your way with any woman your eyes fall upon, but I assure you, I am not one of them…my laird.’

  ‘Call me by my name.’

  ‘I have to go now…my laird.’ The inflexion of her voice carried the hint of a sneer when Elise called Raibert ‘my laird’, and it irked him.

  ‘Call me by my name!’ Raibert demanded, louder still.

  ‘I have to go now!’ Elise said more firmly.

  In one short stride Raibert was upon her again. He took her shoulders and shook her roughly.

  ‘Unhand me, my laird,’ Elise said calmly, holding his gaze unflinchingly.

  ‘Call me by my name!’ Raibert demanded, menacingly now.

  ‘I will not. I have no reason to. And I must go now so kindly unhand me.’

  Elise looked deeply into Raibert’s eyes as he held her fast by the shoulders, and she saw the untamed passion in them. She knew she was weakening by the minute and he read her eyes like a book.

  ‘I will not merely sate my thirst with you,’ Raibert whispered, ‘I will savour you; relish you slowly; possess you bit by bit, and then I will devour you.’ Raibert’s eyes swept slowly over Elise’s body as he spoke, and it was all she could do to maintain her composure and prevent herself from hurling her aching body into his arms. He cupped her face in his very large hands and ran his thumb across her lips. She bit her lower lip to keep her emotions in check, but what she did seemed to excite Raibert’s uncontrollable ardor and his mouth came down hard on hers, urging her lips apart. His tongue, unleashed in the hot recesses of her mouth fanned the flames of her passion and Elise found herself returning Raibert’s kisses, harder, deeper, her teeth sinking into the flesh of his full lips and her tongue teasing the deep cleft in his chin. Raibert groaned and cupped one rounded breast, releasing a fresh flood of passion that burned through Elise’s body, causing her to cry out, ‘Oh Raibert!’ He sprang back at the sound of his name, a triumphant gleam in his eyes. ‘You spoke my name after all,’ he said, his voice thick with raw desire. Elise was filled with dismay as she turned and ran up the hill and all t
he way back to the cottage, stopping briefly in the marketplace to make a few purchases that would maintain her alibi. She saw Raibert’s horse as she mounted the hill on foot, and hoped that he would not pursue her and take advantage of her weakness, but Raibert was overcome by his own vulnerability and sank to the ground where he sat, head in his hands, fighting for composure.

  Elise sought her mother’s counsel later that day.

  ‘Mama,’ she said, ‘I think I would not be averse to marriage, should there be someone of some means who would be willing to take me as his bride. Perhaps we have relatives who would help me find such a person?’

  ‘Oh heavens, my love, I thought you were going to tell me that Raibert McIntyre had decided he wanted you instead of Edme Campbell, and that we would have a fight on our hands.’

  ‘No,’ Elise said, ‘I am merely mindful of our situation which does not seem likely to improve too drastically, and I think I must do my bit as your eldest child, to make things a little easier for us all.’

  ‘Actually,’ Seonaid said, knitting furiously, ‘there is such a person – a distant cousin who is a kind man of some means. If anything, marriage to him would give you the status of a lady.’

  ‘Well Mama, would he agree to a meeting?’

  Seonaid nodded but gave her daughter a quizzical look. ‘You seem to be in a hurry.’

  ‘Perhaps I am Mama,’ Elise said.

  CHAPTER III

  When Raibert returned to Armadale Castle, he was told by a maid that his mother wished to speak with him. Apprehensive about the reason for his mother’s urgent summons, Raibert rushed to her bedside, only to find Isobel by her bedroom window.

  ‘I see much from this window, Raibert,’ Isobel remarked as her son walked in and stood beside her, looking down onto the grounds below.

  ‘Hmmm,’Raibert answered, ‘But what did you wish to see me about?’

  ‘The encounter I witnessed from up here, with the young girl who played the harp so beautifully at the Ceilidh.’

  ‘Encounter?’ Raibert asked, ready to defend himself.

  ‘Yes, I saw you engaged in a long and what appeared to be a deep conversation, during which you also stroked her cheek.’

  ‘And what if I did?’

  ‘I did not raise my son to trifle with the affections of the serving staff.’

  ‘She is no member of the staff.’

  ‘Oh really? Who is she?’

  ‘The daughter of Angus Gardyne… who was crippled in a war with us many years ago.’

  ‘And you are drawn to her,’ Isobel said calmly.

  ‘No mother, I am not!’ Raibert said with unnecessary vehemence.

  ‘I did not raise my son to lie either,’ Isobel answered. ‘I know you agreed to the marriage with Edme Campbell to please me. You wanted to be wed before I died.’

  ‘Stop speaking of death like that, mother!’

  ‘I saw the way you looked at that girl – Angus Gardyne’s daughter – while she was playing the harp.’

  ‘You know how I love music. I was merely appreciating her mastery of the instrument.’

  ‘It was more than that Raibert and you know it. Now the question is, what are you going to do? Will you break the harpist’s heart?’

  ‘She has a name. Elise.’

  ‘I know how you feel about her from the way you speak her name.’

  ‘That is yet another of your whimsical theories, mother,’ Raibert said impatiently.

  ‘How you do lie. Are you lying just to me or to yourself as well?’

  ‘I do not lie.’

  ‘Then tell me if you haven’t been out to meet her somewhere; that you haven’t attempted to kiss her or have kissed her.’ Isobel’s voice had risen.

  ‘Mother! Do not speak so loud, I implore you!’ Raibert cautioned.

  ‘Tell me in a few days, if I am still alive, if this is but another passing fancy or something with disturbing depth, and I will advise you how you must not get out of this marriage with Edme Campbell or we will have a war that I do not want you or your father to fight when I am so close to death myself.’

  ‘You can rest assured mother, that I will do the right thing by Edme.’

  ‘Ah, such a glib tongue – so like your father. You know how to speak words that spell one thing and mean another.’

  ‘I mean what I say, mother. I will do the right thing by everyone.’

  ‘You are Raibert MacIntyre – son of a clan chief. You have a responsibility to fulfill that does not include your happiness. If you think this girl will get over it well, by all means take her to your bed Raibert and spend your passion all you will, but return to Edme so that she will give you sons to further cement the bond between our clans.’

  ‘Do I have no responsibility to myself mother?’ Raibert asked as he left the room.

  A footman from Armadale Castle accosted Elise as she went to the market a few days later, and slipped a note into her hand. ‘Please meet with me,’ the note read, ‘at the same place.’

  Elise called the footman as he hurried away and returned the note. ‘Kindly give this to my laird Raibert,’ she said.

  When Elise returned to the cottage Seonaid seemed visibly excited. She took her daughter off to her room her eyes shining.

  ‘I have had word from Gilroy Gardyne – the distant relative I spoke of – and he is quite eager to meet you.’ Seonaid pointed to a length of sapphire silk that lay on the bed. ‘I have kept this and other lengths of fabric for your wedding and if you like the colour then I will sew it up for you.’

  ‘Oh mama,’ Elise said, forcing enthusiasm into her tone, ‘It’s beautiful, but I can wear just about anything else as well. Do I need to dress so grand?’

  ‘We might not have much, but we don’t need to show it do we? You are beautiful enough without embellishment my Elise, but Gilroy is coming to see you as a prospective wife and we must show him that you will be every bit worthy of him.’

  ‘I see,’ Elise said, ‘Then you must sew it up for me, mama, thank you.’

  At Armadale Castle, Isobel watched from her bedroom window as a footman gave Raibert a slip of paper and she observed her son shake his head violently and stamp his foot in frustration. Obviously the Gardyne girl was not as easily won into bed as Isobel assumed and that disturbed her because it would doubtless spur Raibert on to make a bigger play for her. She sent for him to meet her in her room.

  ‘Raibert, my son,’ Isobel said feebly, ‘I do not have long to go, of that I am sure. We must not tarry with your nuptials. I will speak to your father and proceed at once with the arrangements.’

  Raibert bristled. ‘Are you hurrying my nuptials for any other reason mother? You need have no concerns, for the girl you are so anxious about will have none of me.’

  ‘And you must not allow her feigned indifference to set you on fire for her my son. Let her go. There will be more like her and those you may use at will, even as Edme is producing sons for you.’

  Raibert looked searchingly at his mother. ‘You must rest mother…and plan the wedding if you will. But if I feel that it is wrong for me, then I will tell you and we will call it off.’

  ‘You cannot do that! You and your father will then go to war and I risk losing you both!’

  Raibert gave his mother a peck on her cheek. ‘Rest mother,’ he said, and hurried away, intending to knock on Elise’s cottage door and ask to speak with her. But when he arrived he saw that a carriage had drawn up and a gentleman was descending the steps and walking into the door of the cottage. Raibert stayed concealed till the sun went down and darkness crept in, but still the gentleman failed to leave.

  ‘Who was that who came to visit you in your home?’ Raibert asked Elise when he found her in the marketplace the next day.

  ‘I do not see that it is any of your business, but it is Gilroy Gardyne of Bluebriar Abbey and he came to ask for my hand in marriage.’

  ‘You are to be married?’ Raibert asked, not concealing his dismay.

  ‘As are
you, Raibert,’ Elise reminded him.

  ‘You spoke my name – again.’

  ‘And what if I did?’

  ‘Nothing,’ Raibert answered and left her.

  Elise stared at his retreating back, admiring the way he walked, his dark hair, his long, sturdy limbs. He turned back to throw one last look at her and she felt her confidence ebb away.

  The next day it was Raibert who received a note, delivered by one of the bashful maids whom Elise had worked with briefly on the day of the Ceilidh.

  ‘I wish to explain something. Please meet me where we did once before,’ the note read.

  Raibert turned the note over in his hand, wondering if he should comply with Elise’s request, but eventually he saddled his horse and rode away, observed from a window by Isobel and also by the maid who had taken the note to him.

  As she made her way to the loch, Elise was aware that this time she would have to be doubly on her guard because it was she who had requested the meeting with Raibert.

  ‘What do you want of me?’ Raibert echoed her line.

  ‘Only that you know and recognize that anything that has passed between us was fleeting, transitory…’ Elise looked away and then fixed her eyes on Raibert’s face – trying hard not to be affected by his magnetic charm; the strong jaw, bronzed skin and muscled limbs. She ached for him. ‘You and I live in times of peace which our parents didn’t have the good fortune to enjoy. And we have this because we adhere to tradition. For instance, MacIntyres must marry Campbells. And Gardynes who have lost their lands and properties must save their families by marrying other Gardynes. By the turn of next season, you and I might not remember what may have transpired between us, but what will impact us is a war that will most definitely have to be fought if you do not marry Edme Campbell and I do not marry the man who has just asked for my hand.’

  Raibert’s eyes hardened. ‘You called me here to tell me you are to be married to some man who is by all accounts a stranger to you?’

  ‘He is a distant relative,’ Elise said.

  ‘And do you feel anything for him?’ Raibert asked, steeling himself for her reply and relieved when she said nothing to indicate any deeper attachment.