Velvet Angel Read online

  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