Elizbeth nearly collapsed beside her sister on one of the room’s two couches, exhaustion setting in despite the fitful sleeping in the carriage. Davina crossed to the window and stared into the night. The clock on the mantle chimed. Two in the morning. Elizbeth was exhausted. Margarette rested her head on the sofa back and closed her eyes.
Where were the men? They’d probably followed Great-grandmother. Elizbeth wished she could sleep as Margarette did, but all she could think about was Great-grandmother’s words. “I have arranged for bedchambers to be prepared for you and your husband.”
At last, the door opened and their great-grandmother entered. She crossed to the divan where Elizbeth sat with Margarette, who roused and rubbed her eyes. Aunt Davina joined them and stopped beside the chair nearest Elizbeth.
“This has been a long night,” Great-grandmother said with some weariness, and worry stabbed.
Elizbeth jumped to her feet. “Sit, Great-grandmother—Aunt Sandra. You must rest.”
A hint of amusement flickered in the older woman’s eyes. “Thank you, my dear. Once things are settled, I will retire. Yours and Robert’s chambers are just down the hall. Your husband is with his comrades. He will join you later.” She surveyed Aunt Davina and Margarette. “Shall we help Elizbeth prepare for her wedding night, ladies?”
Elizbeth blinked. That was it? No preamble, no chatting before… Clearly not, for Great-grandmother led them to a modest bedchamber, where Elizbeth was urged onto the bench before a vanity and mirror. The earlier numbness returned, rendering words a dull buzz. They combed her hair into soft waves, and she wanted to cry when her great-grandmother opened a valise at the foot of the bed and lifted out an exquisite linen nightshift embroidered with roses along the neckline and hem. They helped Elizbeth disrobe, then slipped the shift over her head and turned her to face the mirror. All three stepped back in a loose semicircle. Elizbeth watched them watching her.
“Robert is sure to think you the most beautiful woman in Scotland,” Margarette said, voice awed. “I hope I am as beautiful when I marry.”
Elizbeth swallowed and turned her attention back to the reflections of the three women behind her. For all her earlier claim of seriousness, Margarette beamed as if she hadn’t a care in the world. Great-grandmother Saundra appeared proud and implacable. Despite Aunt Davina’s gentle smiled, Elizbeth discerned worry in her eyes. Elizbeth wanted to ask what worried her, but feared the answer.
Aunt Davina turned Elizbeth by her shoulders and drew her into a familiar, comforting embrace. “Remember, the love you bore him,” Aunt Davina whispered. She squeezed Elizbeth, then stepped back.
Great-grandmother took Davina’s place. “You are very brave. Remember, the world can never know the truth, but the King of Scotland’s blood flows through you.”
Elizbeth nodded, not trusting her voice. Aye, she was royalty…and would give anything to change that.
***
Robert stilled when he, Haywood and one of the baron’s men reached the bedchamber door. Heat burned through him, yet his hands were ice. Haywood stood to his left, the baron’s men to his right. Robert knew an honor guard when he saw one. Or were they hangmen? Haywood gave a perfunctory knock, then pushed open the door.
“Remember your duty,” he said, and pushed Robert into the room.
Robert stumbled two steps before catching himself. His eyes fell on Elizbeth as the door clicked shut behind him. She stood in the middle of the room, a robe clenched tight about a gauzy shift visible at neck and hem. She seemed frozen in place, just as he was. He couldn’t tear his gaze from the neckline of the robe, which offered a hint of creamy skin and ruffle where she clutched it closed. What lay beneath that robe was his now. His throat went dry.
“I am sorry about Daniel,” she murmured, eyes downcast.
“Indeed,” he shot back, raw pain slashing through him. “He—the worthy brother—
was to save you from me. Who will save you now?”
She jerked her head up and locked gazes with him. Her eyes blazed, but she whispered, “Who will save you from me?”
“You should have stayed home that morning, Elizbeth.”
Her mouth twisted in a painful smile. “How I wish I had.”
Firelight glistened in her hair. He’d never seen the auburn tresses unbound. She truly was magnificent. “I wanted to marry you,” he murmured.
“Did you?” Her eyes gleamed with unshed tears, but she shook her head. “Well, we need not worry about such tender feelings causing more trouble in the future.”
She whirled away, shift swishing about her. He caught sight of slim ankles and well-formed calves before her skirt settled. Oh, how easily a man could bed such a beauty.
“Were you ever the innocent girl I thought you to be?”
Back to him, she swiped at her eyes. “Indeed, I was. But that girl is gone.”
“Pity,” he murmured, but guilt stabbed. How much was he to blame for the loss of her innocence? Hadn’t he lied to her…turned her away? Worst of all, he’d broken her heart.
She twisted back to face him, an afore unknown hardness in her eyes. “I understand men prefer innocent, pliant women.” She angled her head. “One doesn’t always get what one wants.”
“You got what you wanted,” he said.
She frowned.
“I married you.”
“Oh, but that is what the innocent me wanted. The woman before you is a different creature.”
He gave a slow nod. “The princess believes she deserves better now that she knows her heritage.”
“I believed no one was better than you,” she whispered.
Shock reverberated through him. Believed? Did she no longer believe? Of course, she didn’t. She’d made that perfectly clear in the woods near her family home, when he’d tried to explain his actions of that morning. He recalled when she’d thanked Daniel. She had touched his arm. Elizbeth didn’t touch a man’s arm, unless… Had she come to care for Daniel? The lad would have protected her with his life. Robert’s chest tightened. He had protected her with his life, while Robert had acted the arrogant fool. He had failed so many more people than Daniel when his brother died.
“What are we doing here?” she whispered, tears in her voice.
Robert barked a grim laugh. “We’re saving Scotland.”
“I meant, how did we let this happen to us?”
Robert stiffened. So, she thought wedding him was a tragedy.
“We matter not,” he said. “We cannot shirk the responsibilities thrust upon us.”
Her eyes snapped. “I know my duty.”
She possessed such beauty. Such poise. “Do you?” He dropped his gaze to her hand, clenched about the fabric of her robe. “Yet, you clutch that dressing gown as if you grasp the only rope that can draw you from the sea.”
Elizbeth met his gaze squarely and dropped her hand. Her chin lifted, defiant. The robe fell open to reveal the insubstantial, gauzy material of her nightgown. Roses danced below the line of ruffles across her chest. He raked his gaze down her body. A blush pinked her cheeks. Satisfaction whipped through him. Robert took three steps, then halted inches from her. She kept her gaze locked with his. Was the tremble he detected her fear…or desire?
He slid an arm around her waist and yanked her against him. She didn’t resist. Nor did she aid him. Her arms hung at her sides. She believed herself impervious to him? She had been wrong about so many things. He would prove her wrong in this. Robert cupped the back of her neck and lowered his mouth to hers. Her body remained tense, but her lips melted beneath his. He deepened the kiss.
He could rip the linen shift from her body and make quick work of claiming his husbandly rights. Was that what she wanted? It was his duty to consummate the marriage. The queen had admonished him concerning that duty. Getting Elizbeth with child was paramount to securing her safety.
She gave a small whimper.
Robert swept her into his arms, crossed to the bed and tossed her onto the mattress.
Then he whirled and strode from the room.
***
Elizbeth wasn’t asleep when Robert reentered the room an hour later, but she feigned sleep and watched through slitted lids as he settled into a chair and stretched long legs out before him. After a time, his breathing evened out, deepened, and he slept.
She willed tears not to fall and watched the flames in the hearth even as they morphed into images of Robert kneeling beside his brother’s body. Daniel rose in contorted shapes that haunted fitful dreams filled with accusations and the demand for justice.
Elizbeth’s eyes snapped open as dawn’s fingers began their stretch across the sky. She shifted and froze at sight of Robert standing near his chair. The fire had burned low and the bed, now engulfed in shadow, left his face unreadable when he paused at the foot of the bed. Her heart thudded. Did he mean to take her in his arms as he should have last night? He took a step forward and she flushed at the memory of his lips pressed against hers. He abruptly spun, and tears pricked when he strode to the door. Elizbeth bit down on her lip until the door closed with a soft click, then threw herself onto her side and cried into her pillow until oblivion took her.
When Elizbeth awoke, sun streamed through the window. She bolted upright. How long had she slept? She threw back the covers and raced to the window. The sun still hung low in the sky. She released a stuttered breath. Thank God. The last thing she wanted was for Robert to say that the princess had slept in.
Elizbeth started to ring for a maid, then thought better of it. This wasn’t her home. She would show Robert that she was no spoiled princess, but a woman who understood her responsibilities. She retrieved her dress from the wardrobe, the crinkle of paper reminding her that Robert’s letter lay hidden within the folds. She yanked the page free and tossed it on a table.
After washing her face, she managed to change into her dress, then retrieved her shoes from under the bed, and sat on the mattress to put them on. Her gaze fell on Robert’s letter. Her first thought was to leave the letter where it lay. After all, hadn’t she told Robert that tender feelings between them would no longer cause trouble? She shook her head. She had, but neither could she leave the letter for anyone to read.
She scooped up the letter and glanced at the hearth. Only embers burned. She would wait until she could dispose of the letter properly. She stuffed it into her bodice, then went downstairs.
In the breakfast room, her great-grandmother greeted her with a smile. Aunt Davina came around the table to offer a hug. Margarette watched Elizbeth with wide eyes, as if she were now a mythological creature.
“You are well?” Aunt Davina asked as she retook her seat.
Elizbeth nodded and sat. Before her stood a table laden with breakfast foods for which she had no appetite. She hoped none of the women thought to take advantage of the lack of other diners to ask about her wedding night. Elizbeth frowned. She had expected their hosts at breakfast. Was she not to be introduced to them? Clearly, her great-grandmother knew them well. She’d been met at the door with an embrace the evening before.
“Eat well,” Great-grandmother instructed. “We will leave immediately after breakfast.”
“Are we going to your secret home now?” Margarette asked through a mouthful of biscuit.
“Yes, love,” Great-grandmother replied. “And please swallow before you speak.”
“A secret home,” Margarette breathed. Her eyes assumed a dreamy cast. “That sounds so mysterious.”
Great-grandmother smiled. “Only a little mysterious.”
To Elizbeth’s mortification and relief, Robert didn’t make an appearance for breakfast. She forced herself to eat and tried to pay attention to Margarette’s chatter, but Robert’s words rang in her head. You got what you wanted. I married you. The more she thought on his words, the accusation in them, the more anger roused in her heart.
If he didn’t want her, she would show him that she didn’t want him, either. He’d called her princess. Then, he had the audacity to kiss her shamelessly, toss her onto the bed—and leave! Just thinking about it made her want to scream.
Great-grandmother Saundra, Queen of Scotland, would be furious if she knew he hadn’t consummated the marriage. But Elizbeth wouldn’t tell her. That’s what Robert would expect her to do. He didn’t know her, at all.
After breakfast, they changed into fresh travel clothes that had been left for them, then awaited their great-grandmother in Aunt Davina and Margarette’s suite. Elizbeth stared at the mantle clock and tried not to dwell on the mixture of anger and confusion that knotted her stomach.
A quarter of an hour had passed when the sitting room door opened. Great-grandmother entered with Robert and Mister Haywood. Robert didn’t look at Elizbeth. The two men took positions on either side of the door as Great-grandmother Saundra crossed the room.
She sat on the divan beside Aunt Davina and said, “From here, we separate.”
“Separate?” Margarette parroted. “What do you mean?”
“Elizbeth and Robert will go on to their new home, while the rest of us journey to your future husband, Margarette.”
Margarette sat straighter. “My future husband? You really do have someone picked out for me?”
She nodded. “I told you I did.”
Elizbeth’s heart thudded. “But we should stay together. It is too dangerous for us to separate.”
“On the contrary,” Mister Haywood said. “It is safer for us to go in different directions. If your father should find out trail, which we’ve taken pains to prevent, he will not know who went where.”
“So, Robert and I will go alone?” Elizbeth asked.
“You and Robert will go on to the secret home I have prepared,” Great-grandmother Saundra said. “Robert is now Baron Selway, you are Lady Selway.”
“A baron?” Elizbeth breathed. “We cannot pretend to be of the peerage. Why we would—”
“You must trust me on this, my dear,” her great-grandmother cut in. “I promise you, all is in readiness for your arrival. You will travel with half a dozen guards, all of whom I would trust with my life. When you arrive, you will be met by Mister Elgin. You may trust him in all things. He has arranged for your next trip.”
“Next trip?” Margarette cried. “But, shall we ever see Elizbeth again?” She clutched Elizbeth’s hand.
Elizbeth’s heart jumped. She wondered the same thing. “I— But, who will Margarette marry?” She looked from her sister to her great-grandmother. “Will I not be present for Margarette’s marriage?” She noted the look that passed between her great-grandmother and Aunt Davina. “I will not be there for Aunt Davina’s wedding, either, will I?”
“Not necessarily,” Aunt Davina said in unison with Great-grandmother Saundra’s, “Nae.”
“This is unfair,” Elizbeth snapped.
Aunt Davina’s eyes narrowed and Elizbeth steeled herself for a reprimand.
“Enough, Elizbeth,” Robert cut in from his place by the door. “Surely, by now, you comprehend the seriousness of the situation.”
A heavy silence fell on the room. Her shock evaporated as he walked toward her and she shot to her feet, intending to consign him to the devil.
He stepped around her before the words could leave her mouth, and said to her great-grandmother, “You may rest easy in knowing that I will see my wife safely to our new home.”
Elizbeth shook with rage. A corner of her great-grandmother’s mouth twitched with—was that amusement? Elizbeth looked to Aunt Davina for help, but her aunt only arched a brow that said, I told you it was time to grow up.
“You cannot speak to me that way,” Elizbeth’s voice trembled with rage.
“What way?” he asked.
“As if I am a child.”
He shrugged. “Then do not act like one.” Before she could reply, he again turned back to her great-grandmother. “Elizbeth is a fair horsewoman. Therefore, we will not require the use of a carriage. We will make better time on horseback. We will, of course, take your
men with us, as you command.”
Elizbeth wanted to scream that she would ride in the carriage if she so chose—though she despised long carriage rides—but bit back the childish words.
Her great-grandmother turned to her, expression concerned. “Is half a day’s ride on horseback too much for you, my dear?”
Elizbeth started to toss her head, then caught herself and said in a quiet voice, “Of course not.”
Her great-grandmother smiled and nodded, but Elizbeth thought she, again, detected amusement in her eyes. What could possibly be humorous about the situation?
“You had best say your goodbyes, Elizbeth,” Robert instructed.
Elizbeth froze with indecision. She wanted to slap Robert, but wouldn’t shame herself by acting like the child he accused her of being. Was it childish to resent being ordered about? Her family and home were being stripped from her. Slowly, at first, but now irrevocably. How could she leave her aunt and younger sister?
Margarette jumped to her feet and flung herself into Elizbeth’s arms. Sobs wracked her frame, reminiscent of the day their mother died. Elizbeth’s ire melted. She stroked her sister’s coppery curls. She must bear up. She must not make this separation any harder than it was.
“I cannot leave you,” Margarette wailed.
“You are off on a great adventure, you know,” Elizbeth soothed. “You are to marry. Why, you will be the lady of the house from now on.”
“I do not care,” Margarette blubbered, face pressed to Elizbeth’s shoulder. “You must come with us.”
“You heard Great-grandmother. She says this is the safer course. Even Mister Haywood agrees.”
“You will see Elizbeth soon,” Aunt Davina said, but Elizbeth wondered if she believed her own declaration.
Tears pressed the backs of Elizbeth’s eyes, but she would not let them loose. Her great-grandmother rose and made eye contact with Elizbeth. It was time to let Margarette go. Elizbeth hugged her little sister tight, then pulled back.
Daring Lords and Ladies Page 136
