Velvet Angel

  Gavin and Stephen had obviously seen their little brother like this before. Even Gavin gave up and went home after Miles’s display. And Elizabeth was left weakened, looking down at the drugged Miles with tears in her eyes. Roger and Miles, she thought over and over, Roger and Miles. She had a home with two brothers, one of whom was tearing the Isles upside down to find her, yet she sat and cried over her enemy, a man who’d also protected her, who’d shown her patience and kindness and taught her that life could be good.

  Drowsily, Miles opened his eyes. “Did I frighten you?” he asked huskily.

  She could only nod.

  “I frighten myself. They don’t happen too often.” He caught her hand, held it to his cheek like a child’s toy. “Don’t leave me again, Elizabeth. You were given to me; you are mine.” With that often repeated refrain, he slipped away into sleep.

  That had been four days ago, a mere short four days ago, but now he was planning to leave her alone for three days while he and Stephen went boar hunting. Perhaps Miles didn’t sense her feeling of dread. Perhaps he was just sure enough of himself that he thought he could always keep her at his side. But Roger was on his way to Scotland and when he arrived with his army, what would she do? Could she stand by and see the MacArrans fight her brother? Could she watch a personal fight between Roger and Miles? Would she hold Kit in her arms and watch Miles die or would she hold Miles at night and taste the blood of her brother?

  “Elizabeth?” Bronwyn asked from the doorway. “Miles said you’re not going on the hunt.”

  “No,” she said with some bitterness. “I’m to stay here and surround myself with men. Men behind me, men beside me, men watching my every move.”

  Bronwyn was silent for a moment, watching the blond woman. “Are you worried about Miles or your brother?”

  “Both,” Elizabeth replied honestly. “And were you ever worried about bringing an English husband into the midst of your Scotsmen? Did you wonder if you could trust him?”

  Bronwyn’s eyes danced with mirth. “The thought crossed my mind. All Stephen wanted was for me to admit that I loved him. But I was sure there was more to love than just some undefinable feeling.”

  “And is there?”

  “Yes,” Bronwyn said. “For some women I think they love a man in spite of what he is, but for me I had to know Stephen was what my clan needed as well as what I wanted.”

  “What if you’d loved him, loved him deeply, but your clan hated him? What if your staying with Stephen meant you would have alienated your clan?”

  “I would have chosen my clan,” Bronwyn answered, watching Elizabeth intently. “I would give up many things, even my own life, to keep from starting a war within my family.”

  “And that’s what you think I should do!” she spat. “You think I should return to my brother. Now, while Miles is gone, is a perfect time. If I could have a few of your men I could…” She stopped as she locked eyes with Bronwyn.

  At last Bronwyn spoke. “I honor my husband’s brother. I will not help you to escape.”

  Elizabeth put her arms around Bronwyn. “What am I to do? You saw how Miles acted when I said I should return to Roger. Should I try to escape again? Oh Lord!” She pushed away. “You are my enemy as well.”

  “No.” Bronwyn smiled. “I’m not your enemy, nor are any of the Montgomerys. We’ve all grown to love you. Kit would follow you to the ends of the earth. But the time will come when you’ll have to choose. Until that moment arrives, no one can help you. Now come downstairs and kiss Miles goodbye before he starts wrecking more of my furniture. We have little enough as it is. And, by the way, how did that tapestry get on the floor?”

  Elizabeth’s red face made Bronwyn laugh loudly as they descended the stairs.

  “Elizabeth.” Miles laughed, pulling her into a darkened corner where she kissed him enthusiastically. “I’ll only be gone for three days. Will you miss me so much?”

  “You are the lesser of evils. If you come back and half-a-dozen men have their toes broken, it will be your fault.”

  He caressed her cheek. “After Sir Guy’s experience, I don’t think they would mind.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Bronwyn put that ugly giant in the care of some little flirt and now the two are inseparable. She has him fetching water for her and no doubt if he could hold a needle, he’d embroider her shirt collars.”

  Elizabeth almost kicked Miles at that because the shirt he wore under the Scots plaid was one she’d embroidered for him.

  “Here, my little captive, behave yourself or I’ll send you home.”

  Her eyes hardened at that, but Miles only laughed and nuzzled her neck. “What you feel is in your eyes. Now kiss me again and I’ll be back very soon.”

  Minutes later she stood with empty arms and a heavy heart. Something was going to happen and she knew it. Her first impulse was to hide in her room, to remain there for three days, but she knew Miles was right. Now was a good time to try and overcome some of her fears.

  By early afternoon she’d arranged an expedition of her own. She and Kit would ride out with ten MacArran men, Tam included, to a ruin Bronwyn had told her about. Kit could go exploring and she could work on swallowing her fear.

  By the time they reached the ruin, Elizabeth’s heart was pounding but she was able to smile at Tam as he helped her from her horse. When she heard a man behind her, she didn’t turn quickly but tried to act in a normal manner. As she turned to face Jarl, she was rewarded with a smile of great pride from the young man, and Elizabeth let out a small laugh.

  “Does everyone know about me?” she asked Tam.

  “My clan has a great respect for you because you can slip about the woods as well as any Scotswoman, and we like people who are fighters.”

  “Fighters! But I have submitted to my enemies.”

  “Nay, lass.” Tam laughed. “Ye’ve only come to your senses and seen what fine people we Scots are—and to a lesser degree, the Montgomerys.”

  Elizabeth joined in the laughter with him, as did the men around them.

  Later, as Elizabeth sat on a stone of the ancient fallen-down castle, she watched the men below her, realized that she wasn’t really afraid of them and thought how good that felt. She owed much to Miles Montgomery.

  Because she was so intent upon the sight before her and perhaps because her wariness had dulled in the last few months, she didn’t at first hear the whistle coming from the trees behind her. When it did penetrate her peace-drugged brain, every cell of her body came alert. First she looked to see if any of the MacArrans had heard the sound. Kit was playing with young Alex and making a great deal of noise while the others looked on fondly.

  Slowly, as if she were going nowhere really, Elizabeth left the boulders and disappeared into the trees with all the noise of a puff of smoke. Once inside, she stood still and waited and her mind was taken back to the days of her childhood.

  Brian had always been the one to be protected. Older than Elizabeth but seeming younger, he’d never been able to develop the protective techniques that Elizabeth had. If a man attacked Elizabeth, she had no qualms about drawing a knife on him, but Brian couldn’t. Time after time Elizabeth had rescued Brian from some gaggle of men Edmund had brought to their home. While Edmund roared with laughter, shouting insults at his weakling of a brother, Roger and Elizabeth had soothed the young, crippled Brian.

  There had been so many days that Brian had spent in hiding, without food or drink, that they’d devised a way of signaling. Roger and Elizabeth were the only ones who knew the high-pitched whistle and they’d always come when Brian called.

  Now, Elizabeth stood still, waiting for Brian to appear. Was he alone or with Roger?

  The young man who stepped into the clearing was a stranger to Elizabeth and for a moment she could only gape at him. He’d always been handsome in a delicate way, but now he looked wraithlike and his face was that of some terrible specter.

  “Brian?” she whispered.

&nbs
p; He gave her a curt nod. “You look healthy. Does captivity agree with you?”

  Elizabeth was nearly knocked speechless by this. She’d never heard her young brother say such a thing to anyone, much less to her. “Is…is Roger with you?”

  Brian’s sunken features darkened even more. “Do not say that vile name in my presence.”

  “What?” she gasped, moving toward him. “What are you talking about?”

  For a moment, his eyes softened and he lifted a hand to caress Elizabeth’s temple, but fell away before he touched her. “Many things have happened since we last saw each other.”

  “Tell me,” she whispered.

  Brian moved away from her. “Roger kidnapped Mary Montgomery.”

  “I had heard that but I can’t imagine Roger…”

  Brian turned on her with eyes like hot coals. “Do you think he’s related to Edmund with no taint of blood? Do you think any of us escaped the evil that controlled our eldest brother?”

  “But Roger…” she began.

  “Do not even speak the name to me. I loved the woman Mary, loved her such as I could never love again. She was good and kind without a single wish to harm, but he—your brother—raped her and she cast herself from a window in horror.”

  “No,” Elizabeth said calmly. “I cannot believe it. Roger is good. He doesn’t harm people. He never wanted this war between the Montgomerys and Chatworths. He took in Alice when her own family wouldn’t have her. And he—”

  “He attacked Stephen Montgomery’s back. He lied to Bronwyn MacArran and held her prisoner for a while. When Mary died, I released Bronwyn and took Mary back to Gavin. Did they tell you of the rage of Miles Montgomery when he saw his sister? It lasted for days.”

  “No,” Elizabeth whispered, vividly imagining Miles’s fury. “They have said little about any of the war.” After the first few days, it seemed to be a silent mutual agreement that she and Miles would not speak of their families’ problems.

  “Brian,” she said softly. “You look tired and worn. Come back to Larenston with me and rest. Bronwyn will—”

  “I’ll not rest as long as my brother is alive.”

  Elizabeth gaped at him. “Brian, you cannot mean what you say. We’ll contact Roger, then we’ll sit down and talk about this.”

  “You don’t understand, do you? I mean to kill Roger Chatworth.”

  “Brian! You can’t forget a lifetime of good in one day. Remember how Roger always protected us? Remember how he risked his life to save you the day Edmund ran you down and crushed your leg?”

  Brian’s face didn’t lose any of its hardness. “I loved Mary and Roger killed her. Someday you’ll understand what that means.”

  “I may love a hundred people but that will not make me stop loving Roger, who has done so much for me. Even now he searches for me.”

  Brian looked at her in question. “You slipped away easily enough from your guard. If you’re held so loosely, why don’t you escape and go to Roger?”

  Elizabeth moved away from him but Brian caught her arm. “Do the Montgomery men hold such attraction for you? Which is it? The married one or the boy?”

  “Miles is far from being a boy!” she snorted. “Sometimes age is deceptive.” She ceased when she saw Brian’s expression.

  “Do you forget that I was there at the Montgomery estate? So it’s Miles you’ve come to love. A good choice. He’s a man with enough fire to match your own.”

  “What I feel for any Montgomery doesn’t change what I feel for Roger.”

  “And that is? What keeps you from going to him? These Scots can’t be too difficult to escape. You deceived Edmund for years.”

  She was silent for a moment. “It isn’t just Miles. There’s a peacefulness here that I’ve never known before. No one puts knives to my throat. There are no distant screams at Larenston. I can walk down a corridor and not have to slide from shadow to shadow.”

  “I saw a glimpse of that once,” Brian whispered, “but Roger killed it and now I mean to kill him.”

  “Brian! You must rest and think what you’re saying.”

  He ignored her. “Do you know where Raine Montgomery is?”

  “No,” she said, startled. “He’s in a forest somewhere. I met a singer who’d been with him.”

  “Do you know where I can find her?”

  “Why do you care where this Raine is? Has he done something to you?”

  “I plan to beg him to teach me how to fight.”

  “Not to fight Roger?” she gasped, then smiled. “Brian, Roger will never fight you, and look at you. You aren’t half the size of Roger and you look as if you’ve lost weight. Stay here and rest a few days and we’ll—”

  “Don’t patronize me, Elizabeth. I know what I’m doing. Raine Montgomery is strong and knows how to train. He’ll teach me what I need to know.”

  “Do you really expect me to help you?” she asked angrily. “Do you honestly think I’d tell you where this Montgomery was even if I knew? I’ll not aid you in your madness.”

  “Elizabeth,” he said softly. “I came to say goodbye. I have waited in these woods for weeks, waiting for a time to see you, but you’re always heavily guarded. Now that I have seen you I can leave. I will fight Roger and one of us will die.”

  “Brian, please, you have to reconsider.”

  As if he were an old man, he kissed her forehead. “Live in peace, my little sister, and remember me kindly.”

  Elizabeth was too stunned to reply, but as Brian turned away, Scotsmen began to drop from the trees. Stephen Montgomery, sword drawn, planted himself before Brian Chatworth.

  Chapter 12

  “DO NOT HURT HIM,” ELIZABETH SAID HEAVILY, WITHOUT the least fear that Stephen would harm her young brother.

  Stephen caught her tone and resheathed his sword. “Go with my men and they’ll feed you,” he said to Brian.

  With one last look at Elizabeth, Brian left the clearing, surrounded by MacArrans.

  Elizabeth stood glaring at Stephen for a moment and in that time she understood a great deal.

  Stephen had the courtesy to look somewhat embarrassed. With a sheepish grin, he leaned against a tree, took the dirk from the sheath on his calf and began to whittle on a stick. “Miles knows nothing about this,” he began.

  “You used me as bait to capture my brother, didn’t you?” she blurted.

  “I guess you could say that. He’s been in the woods for days, skulking about, living on bare sustenance, and we were curious as to who he was and what he wanted. Twice while you were with Miles he came near but my men frightened him away. We decided to let you go to him. You were never alone; my men and I were directly overhead, swords and arrows drawn.”

  Elizabeth sat down on a large rock. “I don’t much like being used like this.”

  “Would you rather we killed him on sight? A few years ago a lone Englishman couldn’t have ridden onto MacArran land and lived to tell of it. But the boy seemed so…frantic that we wanted to find out about him.”

  She considered this a moment. She didn’t like what he’d done but she knew he was right. “And now that you have him, what do you plan to do with him?” Her head came up. “Does Bronwyn know of this cat-and-mouse game of yours?”

  She wasn’t sure, but she believed Stephen’s mouth whitened a bit. “As I love life, I am thankful she does not,” he said with great feeling. “Bronwyn does not do things in secret—at least not too many anyway. She would have hauled the boy into Larenston and Miles…” He broke off.

  “Miles’s hatred of the Chatworths runs deep,” she finished.

  “Only of the men.” He smiled. “Roger Chatworth caused our sister’s death and Miles isn’t likely to forgive that. You’ve only seen the side of him he shows to women. When confronted with a man who’s hurt a woman, he is unreasonable.”

  “You were sure Brian was a Chatworth then?”

  “He has that look about him.”

  Elizabeth was quiet for a moment. Brian had had some
of Roger’s look just now, a look of defiance and anger, covered by an expression of I-don’t-care. “You heard what Brian said. Can we hold him here and keep him away from Roger?”

  “I think he might go mad. He doesn’t look too far from that now.”

  “No,” she said heavily. “He doesn’t.” She looked up at Stephen expectantly.

  “I believe I’ll do just what Brian asks: I’ll take him to my brother Raine.”

  “No!” Elizabeth said, standing up. “Raine Montgomery will kill him. Didn’t he attack Roger?”

  “Elizabeth,” Stephen soothed. “Raine will take to the boy because Brian helped Mary. If Raine is nothing else, he’s fair. And besides that,” Stephen said with a little smile, “my brother will work Brian so hard the young man won’t have time to hate. Within three days Brian will be so tired, all he’ll think of is sleeping.”

  She studied him a moment. “Why should you help a Chatworth? Mary was your sister also.”

  “I thought you believed we Montgomerys lied about your brother’s involvement in her death.”

  “If Miles killed a stranger’s sister, would you hate your brother without so much as asking Miles why? Perhaps Roger was involved, but perhaps there were reasons for his actions. I do not and will not hate either of my brothers without just cause.”

  “Well said.” Stephen nodded. “I do not bear any love for your brother Roger for what he’s done, but my quarrel is with him, not with his family. My brothers don’t feel the same way, which is why Gavin was so rude to you. To him family is everything.”

  “And is Raine the same way? Will he hate Brian on sight?”

  “Perhaps, which is why I’m going with Brian. I’ll be able to talk to Raine, and if I know my brother, he’ll end by adopting your young Brian.” He tossed the stick away and resheathed his knife. “And now I must be off. It will take us days to find my brother.”