Velvet Angel

by Jude Deveraux

  “I have two brothers already. I don’t want a sister.”

  “I believe your father makes those decisions. It’s late and I think you should be in bed.”

  “Kit can take the cot and I’ll…” Miles began, eyes twinkling.

  “Kit will sleep with me,” Elizabeth said loftily, offering her hand to the child.

  Kit accepted readily and he yawned as she led him around the bed.

  Miles watched, smiling a bit triumphantly, as Elizabeth undressed the sleepy little boy down to his underwear. He readily went into her arms as she lifted him into bed. Elizabeth crawled in beside him, pulled Kit to her.

  For a moment Miles stood to one side, watching them. With a smile, he bent and kissed both foreheads. “Goodnight,” he whispered before going to his cot.

  During the next day, it didn’t take Miles long to see that Elizabeth’s interest extended only to Kit. And the child took to Elizabeth as if he’d known her forever. All Elizabeth would say was, “I have always liked children and they seem to know this.” Whatever the reason, Kit seemed perfectly at ease with Elizabeth. In the afternoon, he rode with her, fell asleep against her. When Miles suggested he take the heavy child, Elizabeth practically snarled at him.

  At night they curled up with each other on a single cot and slept peacefully. Miles looked down at them and felt like an outsider.

  They traveled for three more days and Elizabeth knew they must be getting close to the MacArrans’ land. Miles had been in deep thought all day and twice she’d seen him arguing with Sir Guy. From the frown on Sir Guy’s face, Miles was obviously planning something the giant didn’t like. But whenever Elizabeth got within hearing distance the men stopped talking.

  At midday Miles stopped the entourage of men and mules and asked if she and Kit would like to dine with him. Usually they all ate together, within sight and protection of each other.

  “You seem pleased with yourself about something,” Elizabeth said, watching him.

  “We’re within a day’s ride of my brother and his wife,” Miles said happily, lifting Kit from Elizabeth’s horse.

  “Uncle Stephen wears a skirt and Lady Bronwyn can ride a horse as fast as the wind,” Kit informed her.

  “Stephen wears a plaid,” Miles amended as he pulled Elizabeth from her horse, ignoring her attempts to brush his hands away. “My cook has laid a meal for us inside the forest.”

  Kit took Elizabeth’s hand and Miles held the child on the other side and together they walked into the forest.

  “What do you think of Scotland?” Miles asked as he held her arm as she stepped over a fallen log.

  “It’s as if the place has been untouched since the beginning of time. It’s very rough and…untrimmed.”

  “Rather like its people.” Miles laughed. “My brother has let his hair grow to his shoulders and his clothing…no, I’ll let you see for yourself.”

  “Aren’t we going a bit far from your men?” The primitive forest closed around them and the undergrowth was making it more difficult to walk.

  Miles drew an ax from where it was slung across his back and began to hack away a wider path.

  With a look of puzzlement, Elizabeth turned to him. He was wearing somber clothes of dark green, a brown cloak about his shoulders—and he was heavily armed. There was a longbow with a quiver of arrows on his back, as well as the ax, his sword on his hip and a dagger at his waist. “Something is wrong, isn’t it?”

  “Yes,” he said, looking about her. “The truth is, Elizabeth, I was given a message to meet someone here, but we’ve gone too far.”

  She raised one eyebrow. “You would risk your son’s life in this secret meeting?”

  He slipped his ax back into its sheath. “My men are all around us. I wanted you close to me rather than leave you and Kit with any of my men.”

  “Look, Papa!” Kit said excitedly. “There’s a deer.”

  “Shall we go and see the deer?” she said calmly. “Run ahead of us and we’ll catch you.” Keeping Kit in her sight, she turned to Miles. “I will stay with Kit and you go look for your men. I feel there’s been some trick to separate us.”

  Miles’s eyes widened at her ordering of him, but within moments he disappeared into the forest while Elizabeth hurried after Kit. When Miles seemed to take forever before he returned, she looked about with anxious eyes.

  “Are you unhappy, Elizabeth?” Kit asked, catching her hand.

  She knelt to his level. “I was just wondering where your father is.”

  “He will return,” Kit said confidently. “My papa will take care of us.”

  Elizabeth tried not to show her disbelief. “I am sure he will. I hear a stream in that direction. Shall we find it?”

  They had some trouble breaking through the underbrush but they made it to the stream. It was a wild, rushing body of water, cascading angrily over rocks, tearing at the rocky shore.

  “It’s cold,” Kit said, stepping back. “Do you think there are any fish in it?”

  “Salmon, most likely,” said Miles from behind Elizabeth, and she jumped. Miles put his arm about her shoulders. “I didn’t mean to frighten you.”

  She stepped away from him. “What about your men?”

  He gave a look to Kit who was throwing forest debris into the water and watching it being swept away. He took her hands in his. “My men are gone. There’s no sign of them. Elizabeth, you won’t panic, will you?”

  She looked into his eyes. She was frightened to be in a strange land with a child and this man she didn’t trust. “No,” she said firmly. “I don’t want to frighten Kit.”

  “Good.” He smiled, squeezing her hands. “We are on the southern boundaries of MacArran land now and if we walk due north we should reach some of the crofters’ cottages by evening tomorrow.”

  “But if someone has spirited away your men—”

  “My concern now is for you and Kit. If we stay in the forest perhaps we can escape notice. I don’t mind a fight, but I don’t want you or Kit harmed. Will you help me?”

  She didn’t pull away from his hands. “Yes,” she said softly. “I’ll help you.”

  He released one of her hands. “These mountains are cold even in the summer. Put this around you.” He held up a large piece of woolen fabric woven in a deep blue and green tartan.

  “Where did you get this?”

  “This was all that was left of the meal my cook left. The food was gone but the cloth he spread it on, one of the plaids Bronwyn gave me, was left behind. We’ll need this tonight.” He kept her hand clasped tightly as she tossed the plaid over her arm and they walked toward Kit.

  “Would you like to walk to Uncle Stephen’s house?” Miles asked his son.

  Kit gave his father a shrewd look. “Where is Sir Guy? A knight doesn’t walk.”

  “A knight does what is necessary to protect his women.”

  Between the two males passed a long look. Kit might be only four years old but he’d known since birth that he was to be a knight. He’d been given a wooden sword at two and all the stories he’d heard were of chivalry and knighthood. Kit took Elizabeth’s hand. “We will protect you, my lady,” he said formally and kissed her hand.

  Miles touched his son’s shoulder in pride. “Now, Kit, run ahead and see what game you can find us. Even a rabbit or two will do.”

  “Yes, Papa.” He grinned and scurried away along the side of the stream.

  “Should you let him out of our sight?”

  “He won’t be. Kit has more sense than to stray too far.”

  “You seem little concerned about the loss of your men. Were there signs of a battle?”

  “None.” He seemed to dismiss the subject as he stooped, plucked a delicate yellow wildflower and slipped it behind her ear. “You look as if you belong in this wild place with your hair down, your torn dress held together with diamonds. I wouldn’t mind giving you many diamonds, Elizabeth.”

  “I would prefer freedom.”

  He stepped away f
rom her. “You are no longer my prisoner, Elizabeth Chatworth,” he declared. “You may leave my presence forever.”

  She looked about the wild, rough forest. “You are very clever, Montgomery,” she said with disgust.

  “I take it that means you’ll stay with me,” he said, eyes twinkling, and before she could answer he lifted her, swirled her about in his arms, planting a kiss on her cheek.

  “Release me,” she said but there was a hint of a smile about her lips.

  He nuzzled her earlobe. “I think you could have me at your feet if you so wished,” he whispered.

  “Bound and gagged, I’d hope,” she retorted, pushing away from him. “Now, do you plan to feed us or do you carry that bow only because it looks good?”

  “Papa!” Kit yelled before Miles could answer. “I saw a rabbit!”

  “I’m sure it’s waiting for me to come and slaughter it,” Miles said under his breath as Kit came thrashing toward them.

  A sound from Elizabeth that could only be described as a giggle made Miles turn an astonished face toward her.

  Elizabeth refused to look at him. “Where is the rabbit, Kit? Your brave father will face the animal, and perhaps we’ll get some supper, if not dinner.”

  After an hour of walking, with Miles seeming more concerned with toying with Elizabeth’s fingers, they saw no more rabbits. It was later than she’d thought and it was growing dark—or perhaps the forest just seemed dark.

  “We’ll camp here for the night. Kit, gather firewood.” When the child was gone, Miles turned to Elizabeth. “Don’t let him out of your sight. I’ll find us some game.” With that he slipped away into the forest.

  As soon as Miles was gone, Elizabeth began to feel the isolation of the forest. She followed Kit, loading her arms with dry branches. She hadn’t noticed it before, but she felt as if eyes were watching her. In her brother’s house she’d learned to develop a sixth sense about men who hid in corners, ready to pounce on her.

  “Are you frightened, Elizabeth?” Kit asked, his eyes wide.

  “Of course not.” She forced a smile but she kept remembering all the stories she’d heard about the savagery of the Scots. They were wild people, torturers of little children.

  “My papa will protect you,” Kit said. “He was given his spurs when he was just a boy. My Uncle Raine says Papa is one of the greatest knights in England. He won’t let anyone get you.”

  She pulled the boy into her arms. “Your papa is indeed a great fighter. Did you know that three men attacked me a few days ago? Your papa slew them in minutes and he wasn’t even hurt.” For all the child’s bravado, Elizabeth could see that he was frightened. “I think your papa could fight off all the men of Scotland. There’s no one anywhere who is as brave and strong as your papa.”

  A low chuckle made Elizabeth look around to see Miles holding two dead rabbits by their ears. “I thank you for the tribute, my lady.”

  “Elizabeth was scared,” Kit explained.

  “And you were right to comfort her. We must always protect our women. Would it be possible that you’d know how to skin rabbits, Elizabeth?”

  She lowered Kit and took the rabbits with an air of confidence. “You’ll find that a Chatworth is no Montgomery lady to sit about on satin cushions and wait for the servants to bring her food.”

  “You’ve described Stephen and Gavin’s wives perfectly. Come, Kit, let’s see if the Montgomery men can be useful.”

  In a very short time, Miles and Kit had a fire going and Elizabeth had the rabbits skinned and skewered. Miles used his ax to drive stakes into the ground and set up a turnspit for the rabbits. Leaning back on his elbows, Miles idly watched the fire while Kit turned the meat.

  “You seem very relaxed,” Elizabeth said, frowning, keeping her voice low. “We’re unprotected in a strange land, yet you build a fire. We can be seen for miles.”

  He tugged on her skirt until she sat down, a few feet from him. “This land belongs to my brother and his wife, and if the MacArrans see us they’ll recognize the Montgomery leopards on my cloak. The Scots rarely kill women and children outright. You’ll be delivered to Stephen and all you’ll have to do is explain who you are.”

  “But what has happened to your men?”

  “Elizabeth, my men are gone with no trace of a fight. I would imagine they were escorted to Larenston, Bronwyn’s castle. Right now my concern is for the safety of you and Kit. When we reach Larenston and my men aren’t there, then I’ll worry. Kit! You’re allowing the meat to burn on one side.”

  He moved closer to her. “Elizabeth, you’re as safe as you can be. I’ve scouted this area and seen no one. You’re cold,” he said when she shivered. He took the plaid from the ground behind her, pulled it around both their shoulders and drew her toward him.

  “It’s only for warmth,” he said when she struggled against him, and refused to loosen his grip.

  “I’ve heard that before!” she snapped. “The warmth is only the beginning. Do you enjoy forcing me?”

  “I do not enjoy your hints that I’m like one of your brother’s slimy friends,” he snapped.

  Elizabeth stopped struggling. “Perhaps life with Edmund has distorted my thinking a bit, but I don’t like to be pawed.”

  “You’ve made that clear enough, but if we’re to survive the night I think we need each other’s warmth. Kit, break off a leg. It looks done to me.”

  The rabbits were barely cooked inside, charred outside, but the three of them were too hungry to care.

  “I like it, Papa,” Kit said. “I like it here in the forest.”

  “It’s awfully cold,” Elizabeth said, huddled in the plaid. “If this is summer, what is winter like in Scotland?”

  “Bronwyn thinks England is hot. In the winter she wraps herself in one of those plaids and sleeps on the snow.”

  “No!” Elizabeth breathed. “Is she truly such a barbarian?”

  Smiling, Miles turned to his son, saw his eyes drooping.

  “Come lay down beside me,” Elizabeth said and Kit went to her.

  Miles spread his cloak, motioned for Elizabeth and Kit to lie on it, covered them with the plaid. After tossing more wood on the fire, he lifted the plaid and crawled in beside Kit.

  “You can’t—” she began but stopped. There was nowhere else for him to sleep. Between them, Kit’s sleeping body kept them warm. Elizabeth was very aware of Miles so close to her, but instead of frightening her his presence was reassuring.

  With her head propped on her arm, she watched the fire. “What was Kit’s mother like?” she asked softly. “Did she fall in love with you the first time she saw you in your armor?”

  Miles gave a snort of laughter. “Margaret Sidney turned up her pretty little nose at me and refused to speak to me. I did everything I could to try and impress her. Once, when she came to the training field to bring water to her father, I turned to look at her, lost my stirrup and Raine hit me in the side with his lance. I still have the scar.”

  “But I thought—”

  “You thought that I’d sold my soul to the devil and as a result I could have any woman I wanted.”

  “I had heard that story,” she said evenly, not looking at him.

  He caught her free hand from Kit’s side, kissed her fingertips. “The devil hasn’t made an offer for my soul, but if he did, I might think about it.”

  “You blaspheme!” she said, pulling her hand away. She was quiet for a moment. “But your Margaret Sidney changed her mind.”

  “She was sixteen and so very beautiful and so in love with Gavin at the time. She wanted nothing to do with a boy like me.”

  “And what changed her mind?”

  He grinned broadly. “I persisted.”

  Elizabeth stiffened. “And when you got her, how did you celebrate?”

  “By asking her to marry me,” Miles shot back. “I told you I loved her.”

  “You give your love lightly. Why didn’t Bridget marry you or this cousin who just bore your daughter?
”

  He was quiet for several moments. “I have loved only one woman; I have made love to many women. I have asked only Kit’s mother to marry me and when I ask again, it will be because I love the woman.”

  “I pity her.” Elizabeth sighed. “She will have to put up with your bastards being presented, two and three a year.”

  “You don’t seem to mind this child of mine, and you held the girl at the inn when you thought she was mine.”

  “But I, happily, am not married to you.”

  Miles’s voice lowered. “If you were my wife, would you mind receiving new children every few months?”

  “I wouldn’t blame your four children for your past transgressions, but if I should marry any man, which I will not do, and if my husband humiliated me by impregnating every servant girl in England, I believe that I would arrange his death.”

  “Fair enough,” Miles said, an undertone of amusement in his voice. He turned on his side, put his arm over Kit, around Elizabeth’s shoulders, and drew both of them to him. “Goodnight, my angel,” he whispered and was asleep.

  Chapter 6

  MILES WAS AWAKENED BY KIT’S FOOT IN HIS RIBS AS THE boy painfully climbed over his father. “Be very quiet, Papa,” Kit whispered loudly and juicily in the vicinity of Miles’s ear. “Don’t wake Elizabeth.” With that he was over his father and running into the dim forest.

  Miles watched his son and rubbed his bruised ribcage.

  “Will you live?” Elizabeth asked laughingly from beside him.

  He turned and their eyes met. Elizabeth’s hair was spread about her and her face was sleep softened. He’d not realized how stern a control she kept on herself. Cautiously, smiling slightly, he moved his hand from her shoulder to her cheek, gently caressed the outline of her jaw.

  His breath held when she didn’t pull away. It was as if she were a wild animal he was trying to tame and he must move very slowly so as not to frighten her away.

  Elizabeth watched Miles, felt his hand on her face with a sense of wonder. His eyes were liquid, his lips full and soft. She’d never allowed a man to touch her before and never wondered what it would be like to feel a man’s caress. But now she lay stretched out, facing Miles Montgomery, only inches separating their bodies, and she wondered what it would feel like to touch him. There was a dark growth of beard on his cheeks, emphasizing the sharp cut of them. A curl of dark hair touched his ear.