He looked back at Elizabeth and grinned. “Philip’s mother was a dancer, an exotic creature who shared my bed for two”—he sighed—“two very interesting weeks. Then nine months later she sent a messenger with Philip. I’ve never seen or heard from her since.”
Elizabeth was fascinated with his stories. “And this new child?”
Miles ducked his head and if he’d been a woman she would have thought he blushed. “I’m afraid this child may cause some problems. The mother is a distant cousin of mine. I resisted her as long as I could but…” He shrugged. “Her father is very angry with me. He says he’ll send the child to me but…I’m not sure he will.”
Elizabeth could only shake her head at him in disbelief. “Surely there must be other children.” Her voice was sarcastic.
He frowned slightly. “I don’t think so. I try to keep track of my women now and watch for children.”
“Rather like gathering eggs,” she said, eyes wide.
Miles cocked his head to one side and gave her an intense look. “One moment you condemn me for leaving my children in rags, strewn about the country like so much refuse, and now you damn me for caring for them. I am not a celibate man nor do I intend to be, but I take my responsibilities seriously. I love my children and I provide for them. I should like to have fifty of them.”
“You have a good start,” she said, sweeping past him.
Miles stood still, watching her walk back toward his men and the horses. She stood a little apart from the men, with that stiff-backed carriage of hers. She wasn’t like either of his sisters-in-law, used to authority, at ease with the people who worked for them. Elizabeth Chatworth was rigid whenever she was near men. Yesterday, by accident, one of his men on horseback had brushed against her and Elizabeth had reacted so sharply, pulling her horse’s reins so unexpectedly, that her horse had reared. She’d controlled the animal and held her seat but the experience had disgusted Miles. No woman—or man for that matter—should be so frightened of another human’s touch.
Sir Guy returned, alone, to the men and at once he searched for Miles, walking toward him when he saw him. “It’s getting late. We should ride.” He paused. “Or perhaps you’ve reconsidered about returning the lady to her brother.”
Miles was watching Elizabeth, who was now talking to the mother and the little girl who’d fallen earlier. He turned back to Guy. “I want you to send a couple of men to my northern estate. They are to bring Kit to me.”
“Your son?” Sir Guy questioned.
“Yes, my son. Send his nurse with him. No! On second thought, bring him alone but with a heavy guard. Lady Elizabeth will be his nurse.”
“Are you sure of what you’re doing?” Sir Guy asked.
“The Lady Elizabeth likes children so I will share one of mine with her. If I can’t reach her heart one way, I will use another.”
“And what will you do with this woman once you’ve tamed her? Once, when I was a boy, there was a cat that had lived wild and it claimed the area around a certain shed as its own. Whenever anyone went near the shed, the cat scratched and bit. I set myself the job of taming it. It took many weeks of patience to gain the cat’s trust but I felt triumphant when it began to eat from my hand. But later the cat began to follow me everywhere. I tripped over it constantly and it became a major nuisance. After several months I was kicking the cat, hating it because it was no longer the wild thing I’d loved at first, but only another cat, just like all the others.”
Miles continued to study Elizabeth. “Perhaps it is the chase,” he said quietly. “Or perhaps I’m like my brother Raine, who can’t stand any injustice. All I know now is that Elizabeth Chatworth fascinates me. Maybe I do want to have her eat from my hand—but maybe when she does, it will be because I’m her slave.”
He turned back to Sir Guy. “Elizabeth will like Kit and my son can only benefit from knowing her. And I’d like to see my son as well. Send the message.”
Sir Guy nodded once in agreement before leaving Miles alone.
Minutes later they were mounted and ready to leave. Miles didn’t try to talk to Elizabeth but silently rode beside her. She was beginning to look tired and by midday, he was of half a mind to return her to her brother.
A half-hour later, she suddenly sprang to life. While Miles had been feeling sorry for her, she’d worked loose the rope attaching their horses. She kicked her horse forward, used the loose end of her reins to slap the rumps of two horses in front of her, and with the rearing horses as a shield, she gained precious seconds to escape. She was half a mile down the rutted, weed-infested road before Miles could get around his men and follow her.
“I will bring her back,” he shouted over his shoulder to Sir Guy.
Miles knew the horse Elizabeth rode had little speed in it but she got what she could out of it. He was close enough to catch her when the girth of his saddle slipped and he was sent sliding to one side. “Damn her,” he gasped, knowing very well who’d loosened the saddle, but, at the same time, he smiled at her ingenuity.
But Elizabeth Chatworth wasn’t prepared for a man who’d grown up with three older brothers. Miles was used to practical jokes such as loosened cinches and he knew how to handle them. Expertly, he shifted his weight to the front of the horse, in essence riding bareback but sitting on the horse’s neck, the saddle behind him.
He lost some speed when the horse threatened to revolt at this new position, but Miles controlled the animal.
Elizabeth turned her mount into a corn field when the primitive road disappeared and she was disconcerted to see Miles close on her heels.
He caught her in the corn field, grabbing her about the waist. She fought him wildly and Miles, with no stirrups to anchor himself, started falling. When he went down his arm was still fastened around Elizabeth’s waist.
As they both fell, Miles twisted and took most of the jolt, cushioning Elizabeth, putting his arm up to protect her back from a flying hoof. The horses ran for a few more feet then stood, sides heaving.
“Release me,” Elizabeth demanded when she caught her breath. She was sprawled on top of Miles.
His arms held her to him. “When did you loosen the cinch?” When she didn’t answer he hugged her until her ribs threatened to break.
“At dinner,” she gasped.
He moved his hand to the back of her head, forcing it to his shoulder. “Elizabeth, you are so clever. How did you manage to sneak past my men? When did you leave my sight?”
His neck was sweaty and his heart was pounding against her own. The exercise had done away with her tiredness and she was glad for it even if she hadn’t succeeded in her escape.
“You gave me a good run,” he said, amused. “If my brothers hadn’t thought it a great joke to send me out with a loosened cinch, I wouldn’t have known how to handle it. Of course they were careful that I was on a slow mount so if I fell I wouldn’t kill myself.” He moved to look at her face. “Would you have been terribly glad to see me break my neck?”
“Yes, very,” she said, smiling, practically nose to nose with him.
Miles laughed at that, kissed her quickly, pushed her off him and stood, frowning as she wiped the back of her hand across her mouth. “Come on, there’s an inn not far from here and we’ll stop for the night.” He didn’t offer to help her up.
When they returned to the men, Sir Guy gave Elizabeth a quick look of admiration and she guessed that he’d be more vigilant from now on. She wouldn’t have more chances to toy with the men’s gear.
It wasn’t until they were mounted again that Elizabeth saw that Miles’s forearm was cut and bleeding. She knew it had happened when he’d put his arm between her and the horse’s hoof. Sir Guy inspected the cut and bound it while Elizabeth sat on her horse and watched. It seemed odd that this man, a Montgomery, would protect a Chatworth from harm.
Miles saw her watching. “A smile from you, Elizabeth, would make it heal faster.”
“I hope it poisons your blood and you lose your arm.”
She kicked her horse forward.
They didn’t speak again until they arrived at the inn at which, as before, Miles had sent someone ahead to prepare for them. This time, Miles and Elizabeth were given a private dining room.
“Tell me more about your family,” he said.
“No,” she answered simply, reaching for a dish of snails in garlic sauce.
“Then I will tell you of mine. I have three older brothers and—”
“I know about them. You and your brothers are notorious.”
He raised one eyebrow at her. “Tell me what you’ve heard.”
“With pleasure.” She cut into a beef and chicken pie. “Your brother Gavin is the eldest. He was to marry Alice Valence but he rejected her so he could marry the rich Judith Revedoune, who is a vicious-tempered woman. Between your brother and his wife they succeeded in driving Alice—now Chatworth—insane.”
“Do you know your sister-in-law?”
Elizabeth studied the food on her plate. “She wasn’t always as she is now.”
“The bitch was born a whore. She rejected my brother. Now, tell me of Stephen.”
“He forced a woman who wanted my brother to be his bride.”
“And Raine?”
“I know little of the man, except that he’s magnificent on a battlefield.”
Miles’s eyes burned into hers. “After your brother raped my sister and Mary killed herself, Raine led some of the king’s men to attack your brother Roger. The king has declared Raine a traitor and my brother lives in a forest with a band of criminals.” He paused. “And what of me?”
“You are a lecher, a seducer of young girls.”
“I am flattered that my virility is so overrated. Now let me tell you the truth about my family. Gavin had to take over the raising of three brothers and the managing of estates when he was but sixteen. He barely had time to find out about women. He fell in love with Alice Valence, begged her to marry him, but she refused. He married Judith Revedoune and only after a long while did he realize he loved Judith. Alice tried to scar Judith with hot oil but Alice was the one scarred.”
“You lie constantly,” Elizabeth said.
“No, I do not lie. Stephen is the peacemaker in our family and he and Gavin are close. And Raine—” He paused and smiled. “Raine believes the world’s burdens rest upon his big shoulders. He is a good man but unbelievably stubborn.”
“And you?” Elizabeth asked softly.
He took his time answering. “I am alone. My brothers seem so sure of what they want. Gavin loves the land, Stephen is a crusader about his Scots, Raine wants to change the world, but I…”
She looked up at him and for a moment there was a silent exchange. She too had felt alone in her life. Edmund was evil, Roger was always angry and she’d spent her life escaping Edmund and his friends while trying to protect Brian.
Miles took her hand in his and she didn’t pull away. “You and I have had to grow up quickly. Do you remember being a child?”
“All too well,” she said flatly, pulling her hand away.
For a while they ate in silence. “Was your home…happy?” she asked, as if it didn’t matter.
“Yes.” He smiled. “Each of us was fostered but we still spent a great deal of time together. It’s not easy being the youngest son. You get knocked about a bit. And were you happy?”
“No. I was too busy running from Edmund to think of anything as silly as happiness. I would like to retire now.”
Miles followed her to their room and she saw that tonight a cot had been set along one wall.
“No windowseat,” he said cheerfully, but Elizabeth didn’t laugh. He took both her hands in his. “When are you going to trust me? I am not like Edmund or Pagnell or any other of the disgusting men you know.”
“You are holding me prisoner. Do men as good as you think you are hold innocent women captive?”
He kissed her hands. “But if I returned you to your brother, what would you do? Would you wait for Roger to find you a husband and then happily settle down to wedded bliss?”
She pulled away from him. “Roger has given me permission to never marry. I have considered taking vows of the church.”
Miles gave her a look of horror. Before she could protest, he pulled her into his arms, stroked her back. “You have so much love to give. How could you think to hide it? Wouldn’t you like to have children, to watch them grow? There’s nothing like a child looking at you with complete adoration and trust.”
She lifted her head from his shoulder. She was growing almost used to his touching and holding of her. “I’ve never before met a man who loved children. All the men I know care only for fighting, drinking, raping women.”
“There’s something to be said for a good rousing fight now and then and I’ve been drunk before, but I like willing women in my bed. Now, let’s get you out of this dress.”
She jerked away from him, her eyes hostile.
“I plan to sleep on that cold, hard, lonely cot but I think you must be sick of that gown. You’d be more comfortable sleeping without it.”
“I am more comfortable in my clothes, thank you.”
“All right, have your own way.” He turned away and began to undress while Elizabeth fled to the protection of her bed.
The single candle was still burning and when Miles wore only his loincloth, he bent over her, pulling the blanket from over her face. She lay stiff, rigid, while he sat on the edge of the bed, his hand caressing the hair at her temple. Not speaking, he simply looked at her, enjoying the feel of her skin.
“Goodnight, Elizabeth,” he whispered as he planted a soft kiss on her lips.
Her hand shot out to wipe it away but he caught her wrist. “What would it take to make you love a man?” he murmured.
“I don’t think I could,” she replied honestly. “At least not as you mean.”
“I’m beginning to think I want to test that. Goodnight, my fragile angel.”
He kissed her again before she could protest that she was far from fragile, but this time she was able to wipe the kiss away.
Chapter 5
MILES, ELIZABETH, SIR GUY AND THE MONTGOMERY knights traveled for two more days before reaching the southern border of Scotland. Elizabeth tried once more to escape—at night while Miles slept close to her—but she didn’t reach the door before he caught her and led her back to bed.
Elizabeth lay awake a long time after that, thinking about how she was a prisoner and yet not a prisoner. She had never been treated with as much courtesy as Miles Montgomery treated her. He did insist upon touching her at every opportunity but she was growing used to that. It certainly was no pleasure but it was no longer as vile as it’d seemed at first. Once, at an inn where they’d stopped for dinner, a drunk had fallen toward Elizabeth and, as a reflex, she’d stepped nearer to Miles for protection. He had been inordinately pleased by that.
Today he’d told her that from now on they’d be using his tent as the inns were not as abundant in Scotland. He hinted that once they crossed the mountains, there could be trouble since the Highlanders didn’t like the English.
All through supper, he’d seemed preoccupied and had conferred with Sir Guy several times.
“Are the Scots as bloodthirsty as all this?” she asked after he’d left the supper table the second time.
He didn’t seem to understand what she was talking about. “I’m meeting someone here and he’s late. He should have been here by now.”
“One of your brothers—or is it a woman?”
“Neither,” he said quickly.
Elizabeth asked no more questions. As she crawled into her bed, wearing the same dress Miles had given her, she turned to her side to watch him on his cot. He tossed and turned every moment.
When a loud knock came on the door, Elizabeth sprang out of bed almost as quickly as Miles. Sir Guy entered, a little boy behind him.
“Kit!” Miles cried, grabbing the child, hugging him fit to crush him. The boy didn’t seem
to mind as he also clung to Miles.
“What took them so long?” Miles asked Sir Guy.
“They were caught in a rainstorm and lost three horses.”
“No men?”
“Everyone was saved but it took a while to replace the horses. Young master Kit held onto his saddle when two knights couldn’t,” Sir Guy said with pride.
“Is that true?” Miles asked, turning the boy around.
Elizabeth saw a small replica of Miles but with brown eyes instead of gray, a handsome boy, his face solemn.
“Yes, Papa,” Kit answered. “Uncle Gavin said that a knight always stays with his horse. Afterward, I helped the men pull the baggage from the water.”
“You’re a good boy.” Miles grinned, hugging Kit once again. “You may go, Guy, and see that the men are fed. We’ll leave first thing in the morning.”
Kit smiled goodbye to Sir Guy, then whispered loudly to his father. “Who is she?”
Miles stood Kit on the floor. “Lady Elizabeth,” he said formally, “may I present Christopher Gavin Montgomery.”
“How do you do?” she said, taking the child’s extended hand. “I am Lady Elizabeth Chatworth.”
“You are very pretty,” he said. “My papa likes pretty women.”
“Kit—” Miles began, but Elizabeth interrupted him.
“Do you like pretty women?” she asked.
“Oh yes. My nurse is very, very pretty.”
“I’m sure she is if your father hired her. Are you hungry? Tired?”
“I ate a whole sackful of sugared plums,” Kit said with pride. “Oh Papa! I have a message for you. It’s from someone named Simon.”
A frown crossed Miles’s face, but as he read the message he broke into a grin.
“Good news?” Elizabeth asked, not able to hide her curiosity.
Miles sobered himself as he tossed the note to his rumpled cot. “Yes and no. My cousin has been delivered of my daughter but my Uncle Simon is threatening my life.”
Elizabeth wasn’t sure whether to laugh or be disgusted. “You have a little sister, Kit,” she said at last.