Velvet Angel

by Jude Deveraux

  “Your Montgomerys did that,” he said hoarsely as he strode past Elizabeth and Alice.

  They buried Brian that afternoon but Roger didn’t reappear. Elizabeth planted roses on the grave and shed tears for both her brothers.

  Alice hounded Elizabeth mercilessly, screeching that the Montgomerys should die for all they’d done. She was fascinated by lamps full of hot oil and waved them around maniacally. She said Elizabeth’s child would be born with the mark of Satan and would be cursed for all eternity.

  One by one, the male guests left the bereaved and somewhat insane household and Elizabeth was left alone with her sister-in-law.

  In early March a messenger wearing full regalia came from the king.

  It was a day before the men Elizabeth sent out could find Roger where he’d been—alone in a shepherd’s stone hut. He looked to be a skeleton of himself, his cheeks gaunt under a beard, his hair long and dirty, his eyes wild and frightening.

  He silently read the message in Elizabeth’s presence, then tossed it into the fireplace.

  “Tell the king no,” he said calmly before leaving the room.

  Elizabeth could only gasp, and wonder what message the king had sent. With as much calmness as she could muster, she dismissed the king’s men and sat down to wait. Whatever Roger had refused to do would no doubt soon be known to them when the king heard of the refusal. She put her hand on her growing belly and wondered if her child would live to worry about being called a bastard.

  Chapter 14

  SIX DAYS AFTER THE KING’S MESSENGER HAD COME AND gone, Elizabeth was alone in the garden. She had not seen or heard from Roger in days and Brian’s death was making Alice lose what sanity she had. It wasn’t that the woman cared for Brian but it was the fact that a Montgomery had killed him. Elizabeth thought of this Raine with hatred.

  A shadow moved across her path and involuntarily she gasped before looking up—into the dark, intense eyes of Miles Montgomery. His eyes contemptuously swept her up and down, made note of the ivory satin of her gown, the double rows of pearls, the blood-red ruby at her breast.

  Elizabeth felt she wanted to drink in all of him, that she couldn’t get enough of him. There were dark, faintly yellow shadows under his eyes and he was thinner. Obviously he wasn’t fully recovered from his fever.

  “Come,” he said hoarsely.

  Elizabeth didn’t hesitate as she followed him through the garden and into the forest park of the Chatworth estates. Supposedly these boundaries were guarded, but somehow Miles had entered undetected.

  He didn’t speak to her, didn’t look at her and it wasn’t until they reached the two waiting horses that she realized what was wrong: He hated her. His rigid body, his cold eyes all screamed it.

  She became rigid herself when they reached the horses. “Where are you taking me?”

  He turned toward her. “The king has ordered us to marry. Your brother has refused the order. If we disobey, both your brother and I will be declared traitors and our lands confiscated.” His eyes touched on the ruby. “You need have no fear. After the marriage I will return you to your precious brother, but even you would not like to have all the things that mean so much to you taken away.”

  He turned away from her. Elizabeth tried to mount her horse but her long skirt and trembling body made that impossible. Miles came up behind her and, touching her as little as possible, flung her into the saddle.

  Elizabeth was too stunned, too much in a state of shock, to even think as they set off quickly to the north. Her eyes were so dry they burned and all she thought of was the way the horse’s mane whipped in the wind.

  They halted less than an hour later on the outskirts of a small village, before a pleasant little house beside a church. Miles dismounted, didn’t look at her as she struggled to get down from her horse.

  A priest opened the door to them. “So this is the lovely bride, Miles,” he said. “Come along, I know how impatient you are.”

  As Miles strode ahead, ignoring Elizabeth, she ran after him, caught his arm. The look he gave her as he glanced from her hand to her face made her breath catch. She dropped her hand. “After this is over, could we talk?” she whispered.

  “If it doesn’t take too long,” he said coolly. “My brother is waiting for me.”

  “No,” she said, trying to regain her dignity. “I’ll not keep you long.” With that, she gathered her skirts and walked ahead of him.

  The marriage was over in minutes. There were no witnesses from either family, only a few strangers who the priest knew. For all the feeling either participant put into the words, they could have been negotiating a grain contract.

  When they were pronounced man and wife, Miles turned toward her and Elizabeth held her breath. “I believe we can talk in the vestry,” was all he said. Chin up, Elizabeth led the way.

  When they were alone in the room, he lazily leaned against the wall. “Now you have your chance to say what you want.”

  Her first impulse was to tell him where he could spend the rest of his life but she calmed herself. “I didn’t know of the king’s order that we marry. If I had I would not have refused. I would do a great deal to settle this feud.”

  “Even to sleeping with your enemy?” he taunted.

  She gritted her teeth. “Roger has been very upset at Brian’s death.” For a moment her eyes flashed fire.

  Miles’s nostrils flared. “Perhaps you hadn’t heard that Raine survived your brother’s poison.”

  “Poison!” she gasped. “Now what do you accuse Roger of?”

  “Not Roger,” Miles said. “Your brother Brian poisoned Raine.”

  “Well, Brian certainly paid for the attempt! I hear Raine is a large man. Did he enjoy tearing my slight brother apart? Did he enjoy hearing Brian’s frail bones snap?”

  Miles eyes hardened. “I see that once again you have heard only one side. Did Roger say Raine killed Brian?”

  “Not in so many words, but…”

  Miles came away from the wall. “Ask him then. Have your perfect brother tell you the truth about who killed Brian Chatworth. Now, if you have nothing else to accuse me of, I must go.”

  “Wait!” she called. “Please, tell me the news. How is Sir Guy?”

  Miles eyes turned black. “What the hell do you care? Since when have you cared about anyone except your treacherous brother? Guy nearly died from your brother’s arrows. Perhaps he should practice his marksmanship. Another inch and he’d have reached Guy’s heart.”

  “And Kit?” she whispered.

  “Kit!” Miles said through clenched teeth. “Kit cried for three days after you left but now he won’t even allow Philip’s nurse in the same room. The nurse’s name is Elizabeth.”

  “I never meant…” she began. “I love Kit.”

  “No, Elizabeth, you don’t. We were nothing to you. You repaid us all for holding you against your will. You are, after all, a Chatworth.”

  Her anger exploded in her. “I’ll not stand for more of your insinuations! What was I supposed to do when my brother held a sword at your throat? Should I have stayed with you? He would have killed you! Can’t you understand that I left with him in order to save your ungrateful life?”

  “Am I supposed to believe that?” he said, low. “You stand before me dripping pearls, wearing a ruby that costs more than all I own and tell me you followed your brother in order to save me? What has made you think I’m stupid?”

  “Tell me then,” she shot back, “what should I have done?”

  His eyes narrowed. “You claim your brother loves you so much, you should have told him you wanted to stay with me.”

  She threw up her hands at that. “Oh yes, that would have worked so well. Roger no doubt would have resheathed his sword and gone home docilely. Roger’s temper is second only to yours. And, Montgomery, how was I to know you wanted me to remain with you?”

  He was silent for a moment. “My wants have always been clear. I hear you have been sleeping with many men lately. I’
m sure your marital status won’t interfere with your activities, although my child will curb you for a while at least.”

  Very calmly, very slowly, Elizabeth stepped close to him and slapped him across the face.

  Miles’s head snapped to one side and when he looked back at her, his eyes were ablaze. With one quick, violent gesture he caught both her hands in one of his, pushed her back against the stone wall. His lips came down on hers hard, plundering.

  Elizabeth reacted with all her pent-up desires and pushed her body into his hungrily.

  His lips made a hot trail down her neck. “You love me, don’t you, Elizabeth?”

  “Yes,” she murmured.

  “How much?” he whispered, touching her earlobe with the tip of his tongue.

  “Miles,” she murmured, “please.” Her hands were held against the wall, above her head, and she desperately wanted to put her arms around him. “Please,” she repeated.

  Abruptly, he pulled away from her, dropped her hands. “How does it feel to be turned down?” he said coldly, but a vein in his neck pounded. “How does it feel to love someone and be rejected? I pleaded with you to stay with me but you chose your brother. Now see if he can give you what you need. Goodbye, Elizabeth…Montgomery.” With that he left the room, closing the door behind him.

  For a long while Elizabeth was too weak to move, but she finally managed to make her way to a chair and sit on it. She was there, in a daze, when the priest entered, obviously agitated.

  “Lord Miles had to leave but an escort awaits you outside. And this was left for you.” When Elizabeth didn’t react, the priest took her hand and closed it around something cold and heavy. “Take your time, dear, the men will wait.”

  It was several minutes before Elizabeth gathered her strength enough to stand. The object in her hand fell and clanged against the stone floor. Kneeling, she picked it up. It was a heavy gold ring, sized small enough to fit her hand, set with a large emerald that was incised with three Montgomery leopards.

  Her first impulse was to toss the ring across the room, but with a grimace of resignation, she slipped it on her left hand and left the room to go to the guard waiting for her.

  Roger met her a half-mile from the estate with an armed guard, swords drawn. She kicked her horse ahead to meet him.

  “Death to all Montgomerys!” he cried.

  Elizabeth grabbed his horse’s bridle, succeeding in nearly pulling her arm from its socket and making Roger’s horse rear. Both of them fought their horses for a moment.

  “Why do you come riding with Montgomerys?” Roger bellowed.

  “Because I am a Montgomery,” she shouted back.

  That statement successfully made Roger pause.

  “How dare you not tell me of the king’s order that I marry Miles!” she yelled at him. “What else have you lied to me about? Who killed my brother Brian?”

  Roger’s anger made his face turn red. “A Montgomery—” he began.

  “No! I want the truth!”

  Roger looked at the guard of men behind her as if he were planning their deaths.

  “You tell me the truth here and now or I ride with them back to Scotland. I have just been married to a Montgomery and my child has every right to be raised as one.”

  Roger was breathing so hard, his chest was swelling to barrel size. “I killed Brian,” he shouted, then quietened. “I killed my own brother. Is that what you wanted to hear?”

  Elizabeth had expected any answer but that one and she felt deflated. “Come back to the house, Roger, and we’ll talk.”

  When they were alone in the solar, Elizabeth demanded that Roger tell her everything about the wars between the Chatworths and the Montgomerys. It wasn’t an easy story to listen to and it was even harder to get Roger to tell the unbiased truth. Roger’s view of the events was colored by his emotions.

  In Scotland he’d seen a chance to marry Bronwyn MacArran, which would have been an excellent match for him. He did tell the woman a few falsehoods in order to make him appear more favorable to her—but what were a few lies in courtship? He’d even maneuvered Stephen Montgomery into fighting for her, but when Stephen won so easily Roger’d been enraged and attacked Stephen’s back. Roger’s humiliation at that had been too much to bear. He’d kidnapped Bronwyn and Mary merely to show the Montgomerys he was a power to be reckoned with. He never meant the women any harm.

  “But you did harm Mary,” Elizabeth said angrily.

  “Brian wanted to marry her!” Roger defended himself. “After all I’d suffered at the hands of the Montgomerys and then Brian wanted to marry their old, plain, spiritless daughter. No one else in England would have her. Can you imagine how the Chatworths would have been laughed at?”

  “Your pride sickens me. Brian lies dead rather than married. Did you get what you wanted?”

  “No,” he whispered.

  “Neither have I.” She sat down. “Roger, I want you to listen to me and listen well. The anger between the Montgomerys and Chatworths is over. My name is now Montgomery and my child will be a Montgomery. There will be no more fighting.”

  “If he tries again to take you—” Roger began.

  “Take me!” She stood so fast the chair fell over. “This morning I begged Miles Montgomery to take me with him, but he refused. And I don’t blame him! His family has lost someone they loved because of you, yet they have not killed you as probably they should have.”

  “Brian—”

  “You killed Brian!” she shouted. “You have caused all of this and so help me God, if you so much as look at a Montgomery wrong, I’ll take a sword to you myself.” With that she left the room, nearly tripping over Alice who, as usual, was eavesdropping.

  It was three days before Elizabeth could control her anger enough to even think. When she did think, she decided to look at what she had and do something with it. She was not going to have her child growing up as she had. She would probably never live with Miles so the closest thing to a father her child would have was going to be Roger.

  She found Roger brooding before the fireplace and if she’d been a man, she would have pulled him out of his chair and given his backside a good swift kick.

  “Roger,” she said in a voice filled with honey, “I never noticed before, but you’re getting a roll about your middle.”

  He put his hand to his flat stomach in surprise.

  Elizabeth had to repress her smile. Roger was a very good-looking man and he was used to women noticing him. “Perhaps at your age,” she continued, “a man should grow stout and his muscles weak.”

  “I’m not so old,” he said, standing, sucking in his stomach.

  “That was one thing I liked about Scotland. The men were so trim and fit.”

  He cocked his head at her. “What are you trying to do, Elizabeth?”

  “I’m trying to keep you from living in a world of self-pity. Brian is dead and even if you fall in bed drunk every night for the rest of your life, you won’t be able to bring him back. Now go get those lazy knights of yours and put them to work.”

  There was just a hint of a smile in his eyes. “Perhaps I do need some exercise,” he said before leaving the room.

  Six weeks later, Elizabeth was delivered of a very large, healthy baby boy whom she named Nicholas Roger. The child showed right away that he had inherited Gavin Montgomery’s high cheekbones. Roger took to the child as if he were his own.

  When she was up from her childbed, she began to work on making a home for little Nicholas. The first thing she did was order a guard near the baby at all times because Alice seemed to think the child was Judith and Gavin’s and Elizabeth didn’t trust the crazy woman’s actions.

  Nicholas was barely a month old when the first letter arrived from Judith Montgomery. It was a reserved letter inquiring after the child, saying Judith regretted not meeting Elizabeth but Bronwyn sang her praises. There was no mention of Miles.

  Instantly, Elizabeth wrote back, raving about little Nick, saying he looked lik
e Gavin and did Judith have any advice for a new mother?

  Judith responded with a trunkful of exquisite baby clothes that her son, now ten months old, had outgrown.

  Elizabeth, with a bit of defiance, showed the clothes to Roger and told him she’d started a correspondence with Judith Montgomery. Roger, sweat-drenched from the training field, said nothing—but Alice had a great deal to say, all of which was ignored by everyone.

  It wasn’t until Judith’s fifth letter that she mentioned Miles and then seemingly only in passing. She said Miles was living with Raine, both men were without their wives and both men were miserable. That news made Elizabeth’s whole week seem wonderful. She laughed at Nick and told him all about his father and his stepbrother Kit.

  In September, Elizabeth sent Judith bulbs for her garden, and tucked away inside was a doublet, very adult-looking, that Elizabeth had made for Kit. Judith wrote back that Kit loved the doublet but both he and Miles were under the impression Judith had made it, which made Gavin laugh because Judith was always too busy to have the patience to sew.

  Just after Christmas, Judith sent a long, serious letter. Raine and his wife had reunited and Miles had come to visit them before returning to his own estates. Judith was appalled at the change in Miles. He’d always been a loner but now he rarely spoke at all. And worst of all, his love of women seemed to have disappeared. The women were still drawn to him but he looked at them suspiciously and without the least concern. Judith had tried to talk to him but all he’d said was, “I’m a married man, remember? Husbands and wives should remain faithful to each other.” With that, he laughed and walked away. Judith pleaded with Elizabeth to forgive Miles and she also warned Elizabeth that all the Montgomery men were insanely jealous.

  Elizabeth replied with a long, long letter of anger. Miles was the only man who’d ever touched her; she’d begged him to take her with him when they were married but he refused. She told how she’d gone with Roger only to save Miles’s life. She ranted for pages about what a fool she’d been to believe in her brother so blindly, but it was Miles who was keeping them apart, not her.