Velvet Angel Read online

  She raised her skirt, tore off a long piece of petticoat and wet it in the rain. Miles sat cross-legged before her, his arm extended as she began to wash away the blood.

  “I can’t tell you how good it is to see you smile,” he said. “Kit! Don’t climb on those beams. Take the cloth from inside the quiver and clean my sword. And watch that you don’t damage the edge.” He looked back at Elizabeth. “I take it as an honor that you smile at me. I’m not sure, but I feel that you don’t smile at many men.”

  “Very few,” was all she’d answer.

  He lifted her hand from his wrist and kissed her palm. “I’m beginning to think you’re as angelic as you look. Kit adores you.”

  “I have a feeling Kit has never met a stranger, that he adores everyone.”

  “I don’t.” He kissed her hand again.

  “Stop it!” She pulled away from him. “You are entirely too free with your kisses.”

  “I am doing very well at limiting myself to kisses. What I’d like to do is make love to you. Kit!” he yelled at his son who was waving the sword above his head. “I’ll have your hide if you even consider thrusting that at anything.”

  In spite of herself, Elizabeth had to laugh as she thrust Miles’s cleanly bandaged arm back to him. “I think you should leave your son at home when you try courting.”

  “Oh no.” He smiled. “Kit has accomplished more than I could have in months.”

  With that cryptic remark, he moved to take his cherished sword from his son’s reckless hands.

  Chapter 7

  THAT NIGHT THE THREE OF THEM SLEPT TOGETHER AGAIN, Kit firmly wedged between them. Elizabeth lay awake for a long time listening to the breathing of Miles and Kit. The past two days had been so unusual, so unlike anything she’d ever experienced before. It was like a bit of sunshine after years of rain.

  When she woke she was alone on the cloak, the plaid tucked about her. Sleepily she smiled, snuggled deeper under the covers, and for a second she wished she could always stay in this place, that each day could be filled with laughter.

  Turning to her back, stretching, she looked about the little shelter, saw that it was empty. Her senses had dulled over the last few days. Usually, she slept with one ear open, but somehow, Miles and Kit had managed to leave without disturbing her. She listened now for any sounds of them, smiling when she heard slow, quiet footsteps not too far away.

  Stealthily, soundlessly, she left the shelter and faded into the surrounding forest. Once inside, hidden, she heard the unmistakable sounds of Kit and Miles to her left. Then who was skulking about in the undergrowth ahead of her?

  Using all her years of experience at escaping her brother’s friends, she slipped through the forest effortlessly. It was some minutes before she saw who was trying so hard to sneak up on them.

  Lying on his stomach, his long, long body held immovable, was Sir Guy, only his head turning from side to side as he scanned the horizon where Kit and Miles scampered.

  With no more sound than a breath of air, Elizabeth crept behind Sir Guy. Stooping, she picked up a small, elongated rock and clutched it in her fist. Roger had taught her that even her small, weak fist could carry some power if she held a hard object. With the rock in one hand, she bent and grabbed Sir Guy’s small dagger from its sheath at his side.

  The giant stood in one fluid, quick movement. “Lady Elizabeth!” he gasped.

  Elizabeth stood back, at arm’s length from the man. “Why are you following us? Did you betray your master and now you come to kill him?”

  The scar across Sir Guy’s face whitened but he didn’t answer her. Instead, he turned his head in the direction of Miles and gave a high, piercing whistle.

  Elizabeth knew Miles would come at the call, that it was a signal between them. If Sir Guy felt free to call his master, then Miles must know something of the reason for the giant’s hidden presence.

  In a remarkably short time, Miles appeared, sword drawn, alone.

  “The lady asks if I mean to kill you,” Sir Guy said solemnly.

  Miles looked from one to the other. “How did she find you?”

  Sir Guy’s eyes never left Elizabeth’s face. He seemed to be embarrassed and admiring all at once. “I didn’t hear her.”

  Miles’s eyes twinkled. “Give him back the dagger, Elizabeth. There needn’t be any concern for Guy’s loyalty.”

  Elizabeth didn’t move. Her hand clutched the rock, hidden in the folds of her skirt, and at the same time she made note of the flat rock Sir Guy’s softly clad foot was resting upon. Feet were vulnerable in even the strongest men.

  “Where are your men?” she asked Miles, her eyes on Sir Guy.

  “Well…Elizabeth,” he began. “I thought perhaps…”

  From the slight changes in Sir Guy’s face, Elizabeth knew that whatever had been done had been Miles Montgomery’s idea.

  “Speak up!” she commanded.

  “We’re on MacArran land and I knew we’d be safe so I decided to walk with you and Kit. There’s never been any danger.”

  She whirled to face him but kept Sir Guy in her view. “This was all a trick,” she said evenly. “You lied about your men disappearing. You lied about being in danger. You did this all in an attempt to get me alone.”

  “Elizabeth,” he soothed. “We were surrounded by people. I thought perhaps that if we could be alone for a time you might come to know me. And Kit—”

  “Don’t profane that child’s name! He was not in this ugly plot of yours.”

  “It wasn’t a plot,” he pleaded, his eyes soft.

  “But what of danger? You risked my life and that of your son. These woods are full of savage men!”

  Miles smiled patronizingly. “True, but these savages are related to me by marriage. I’m sure we’re surrounded by MacArrans even now.”

  “I’ve heard no one except this great thrashing boar.”

  Sir Guy stiffened beside her.

  “There was no harm done.” Miles smiled at her. “Give me the dagger, Elizabeth.”

  “No harm except lies given to a woman,” she spat at him.

  After that, everything seemed to happen in a single flash. She lunged at Miles with the dagger. Sir Guy’s hand knocked it from her grasp, and as the little knife went flying, Elizabeth’s heel came down on the two smallest toes of Sir Guy’s left foot. Miles, as he turned astonished eyes to Sir Guy’s cry of pain, didn’t see Elizabeth’s fist, wrapped about the rock, as it plowed into his stomach. With a great whoosh of pain, Miles bent over.

  Elizabeth stepped back, watching as Sir Guy sat on the ground and tried to remove his boot, his face showing his pain. Miles looked as if he might lose his dinner.

  “Well done,” came a voice from behind her. She whirled about to look into the face of a strikingly beautiful woman, with black hair and blue eyes, as tall as Elizabeth, which was rare. A big dog stood beside her.

  “That should teach you, Miles,” she continued, “that all women don’t appreciate being used as a man sees fit.”

  Elizabeth’s eyes widened as from the trees men began to drop and, coming from the direction of the cottage, an older man was leading Kit by the hand.

  “Lady Elizabeth Chatworth,” the woman said, “I am Bronwyn MacArran, laird of Clan MacArran and sister-in-law to this scheming young man.”

  Miles was recovering himself. “Bronwyn, it’s good to see you again.”

  “Tam,” Bronwyn said to the older man. “See to Sir Guy’s foot. Did you break it?”

  “Probably,” Elizabeth answered. “When I’ve done it before I’ve found it usually breaks the man’s smallest toe.”

  Bronwyn gave her an acknowledging look of appreciation. “These are my men. Douglas.” As she called each man’s name, he stepped forward, nodded at Lady Elizabeth. “Alex, Jarl and Francis.”

  Elizabeth gave each man a hard, appraising look. She didn’t like being surrounded by men and she moved so Sir Guy was no longer behind her. The many men near her made her feel as i