Stealing the Bride (8 page)

“Ye are correct. Pherson never wants anything less than the best.”

There was a note of annoyance in Tavia’s voice. Elspeth considered the girl for a moment.

“Unless ye would care to help me out with yer brother … for the sake of proving that a woman can outthink a man.”

Daracha looked up from where she had been studying what was inside a trunk. She lifted a pair of dainty shoes with dancing heels on them.

“Outwit Pherson? Now that is something we are always interested in viewing, but it does not happen very often.”

Daracha brought the shoes to her and lifted a finger to her lips in caution.

“Keep yer voice low if yer intention is to scheme.” She lifted the shoe up so that the light shone off the polished leather. “Do ye like these? I believe they will fit ye.”

Now Daracha spoke in a normal tone but Elspeth was distracted by the shoes. They had heels on them and were a deep scarlet color. There was nothing practical at all about them but she adored them on sight.

Daracha smiled a wicked, knowing smile. “I hear Queen Catherine Howard had many pairs just like this.”

Elspeth felt her eyes widen. “And she also lost her head.”

Tavia waved a hand in the air. “She drew men’s attention everywhere she went. Her failing was that she was too foolish to understand the difference between love and lust. Try them on.”

They were a French fashion, something Anne Boleyn adored too. Yet another woman who had lost her head over being too free with her affections.

But it was only a pair of shoes and she didn’t have a husband to make jealous.

Elspeth slid her feet into the shoes and Daracha tied them closed.

“Now walk in them. They say the heels push yer bottom up, making it more attractive to the male eye. The English Queen Mary has forbidden them.”

The heels felt decadent. Coupled with the silk chemise, she felt more alluring than she ever had. The silk flowed over her breasts, teasing her nipples until they drew into hard points that poked through the delicate fabric. Tavia laughed in a low, sultry tone.

“I believe ye need just the correct set of stays to go with those heels.” Tavia opened another trunk and pulled something from it. Elspeth gasped when she saw it.

“Lovely, aren’t they? My brother brought this back from a countess who clearly doesn’t share the strict piety that her queen does.”

The stays were made of emerald green silk. The candlelight illuminated the fabric, making it look like emerald fire. Elspeth reached out to run a single fingertip over the costly fabric.

“To think that there are women wearing such things beneath their somber black velvet court dresses …”

Daracha snickered. “An interesting idea, is it not?” She began to lace the stays into place around Elspeth. They lifted her breasts up and the neckline was lower than her practical linen ones. Now her breasts looked in danger of spilling out if she leaned over too far. But it was a clever deception because the garment held just enough of her breasts when she put them to the test.

Now wouldn’t that be the way to shave Hayden …

The silk of the chemise only partially veiled her thighs, and the curls growing on her mons were a teasing hint behind the fabric.

“Now what are you thinking?” Tavia sounded almost hungry for the answer to her question.

“Hayden Monroe was set on me shaving his whiskers away and I was thinking …”

Daracha clapped her hands together, interrupting her with a gleeful laugh.

“Oh, you must wear this and do as he commands. What a punishment that will be for him to bear.”

“Does that mean ye agree to help me escape this fortress?” Elspeth lowered her voice so that it remained between them. Daracha cast a look at her sister, the pair of them gazing at each other for a long moment. It felt like an hour but Daracha finally sighed and nodded.

“Pherson will be horribly cross with me for near a month. Possibly longer.” Instead of sounding fearful, the girl’s voice held a great deal of merriment.

“Unless he admires your craftiness. Yer brother looks the type to enjoy being trumped in grand style.”

Tavia smothered a giggle behind a hand. “Maybe you should stay, Elspeth Leask. I believe it might be entertaining to watch ye twist our dear brother around yer whim.”

Elspeth felt her hope sputtering and threatening to die, but Tavia giggled once again behind her palm.

“Oh, look at you. I was but teasing. I wouldn’t be, mind you, if I didn’t think yer heart was already taken.” Tavia’s voice became deeper and more somber. “Pherson so very desperately needs a woman who will love him.”

“Ye would keep me here if ye didn’t think I was in love with another?”

“Of course.” Daracha laid a hand on her shoulder. “We may enjoy playing but we would never waste something he brought home unless there was love involved.”

Pirates.

The sisters were very much like the brother. They both offered her unrepentant smiles while they went to searching through the trunks for more clothing. Elspeth bit her lip because she didn’t need to chastise them when they were going to give her what she wanted.

What she wanted … Now that was what she truly needed to ponder. If she wanted Hayden Monroe, it was a sure bet that she would have to stop running from him.

And soon.

Other clans were willing to tie their female relations up in ribbons for him but all that idea did was make her more stubborn. She didn’t want him because he was Laird Monroe. That would make her as much a pirate as Pherson and his sisters.

But you do want him …

Her cheeks heated with a blush while the sisters brought her more common wool clothing to cover the decadent undergarments. But the silk was still there against her skin, reminding her of how much she could feel. It made her mind wander to the whispered tales she’d heard of lovers and the way they touched. Hayden’s hands left trails of fire across her neck and cheeks. How much more intense would it be to have those same strong hands beneath her skirts and against her bare thighs?

She had to bite her lip once again to contain a soft sound of need from escaping.

“There. Ye look … quite boring.”

Tavia smiled with her judgment. They had even brought her an arisaid, a length of fabric that was belted across the back of her waist and pulled up over her shoulder. At night it could be used to cover her head and provide warmth. It was a poor garment, for those who could not afford enough wool for a cloak.

“Come on before Pherson comes seeking ye.” Daracha reached out and clasped her hand. The girl began leading her down another flight of stairs. The light from the bath house diminished until it was pitch black all around them. Daracha kept pulling on her hand and Elspeth placed her other one on the stone wall to help her maintain her balance. She shivered and her hearing became more sensitive now that her sight was inhibited by the darkness. Every sound began to echo, bouncing between the thick stone walls that the stairs descended through. The sound of water began in the distance and grew stronger.

They finally emerged from the base of the tower. Even though it was dark outside, it wasn’t pitch black such as it had been in the stairway. The night was cloudy but there was a glow that seemed quite bright compared to where they had come from.

“Follow the river. There is a small gate down the hill that the servants use to return to the village when their service is finished. If luck is with ye, ye’ll meet yer love on the road as he’s seeking to reclaim ye.” Tavia pressed a single coin into her palm.

“Of course if ye meet someone else, ye shall just have to accept fate’s will.” Daracha’s voice sounded like an old woman did when the fire was banked for the night and there was no clergy about to keep the old Gaelic traditions from surfacing. That was when magic from years gone by was still toyed with.

“Fate’s will?”

Tavia nodded. “Indeed, the will that ye belong to another.”

Both sisters smiled and their eyes shone with excitement as though they wished her to be taken on the road by another marauder.

Pherson was one too many in her opinion.

“Go now. Someone will question us if we stay here.”

Elspeth turned without another word. The heeled shoes were not going to be comfortable on the road but she dare not quibble with how the sisters chose to set her free. Gratitude seemed rather misplaced considering the excitement shining in the girls’ eyes. They considered the unknown elements of the night to be things of fortune and not defeat.

Well, that suited them, she supposed. The river was rushing along at a good pace and she followed it to the gate the sisters had promised her. Hope filled her heart when the men guarding it didn’t even look up from their game of dice. She passed through without trouble and into the night. She refused to fear, taking the advice given to her by Tavia and Daracha.

She would rely on fate’s whim. But she added a prayer as well and pulled the arisaid up and over her head.

“Do ye truly think me so shallow?” Pherson Dalry emerged from the shadows. Tavia and Daracha stiffened but did not tremble. He tilted his head and watched the last traces of Elspeth in the distance.

“I have never thought ye two mindless creatures.”

That sent both sisters looking to one another. Confusion surfaced in their expressions. Pherson shook his head.

“What I craved was for ye to grow strong. There are plenty of men that believe women should be naught but ornaments to enhance their lives. The dangerous ones are the ones that think having yer own opinions is the devil’s work.”

Daracha’s eyes flashed with her temper. Pherson eyed her. “Always keep that hidden, Sister. That is the reason I’ve allowed ye to believe that I want nothing from ye but perfect poise. Why do ye think I allowed ye to have tutors that just happened to be able to school ye in things other than courtly manners when ye thought I was nae watching?”

“Ye wanted us to learn how to deceive ye.” It wasn’t really a question. Tavia knew she was correct; she was only unhappy about discovering she had been duped.

“I wanted ye to know how to survive. Ye’ll both marry and have to deal with the unjust view many men have of women. With yer beauty, ye will both have to find a way to avoid becoming some greedy man’s pet. What sort of a brother would I be if I failed to teach that lesson when it might mean the difference between life and death at the hands of some man that wants to label ye witches like old Henry did to Anne Boleyn?”

Daracha’s eyes grew glassy. Pherson watched the realization sink into her. His life was balanced precariously. If he died, and that was a high probability, his sisters would be at the mercy of his aunt. She was a bitter woman who had coveted what his father had her entire life. His sisters would not do well beneath her rule.

“I’d naught have kept her, ye know.”

Tavia shook her head. “I believe ye would have been tempted to, and she is falling in love with another.”

Pherson looked into the night, along the path that Elspeth Leask had taken. “Her courage would have tempted me, but it was the love that would have seen me setting her free.”

“Yes, love is something we all understand.”

Daracha sighed and clasped her sister’s hand. They both lowered themselves to their brother, meaning the respectful gesture for the first time. Pherson offered them a cocksure grin.

“Up the stairs with ye. Tonight is not for either of ye.”

His sisters left and Pherson made his way downriver. His men allowed Elspeth through the gate and into the night. Some would label him ungallant for letting her challenge the unknown, but those were the ones who would never truly taste life. If you wanted the greatest reward, you had to take the most risk. He felt his lips split into a grin.

Aye he would have been tempted to keep her.

Elspeth tightened her grip on her arisaid and banished the ideas attempting to take control of her thoughts. Why had she listened to so many tales of specters and spirits that lurked in the dark? She was paying for every single moment of entertainment she’d ever gained from sitting by the fireside while the storytellers wove their words into tales that sent shivers down the spines of those listening.

Foolishly listening, for tonight it was costing her more confidence then she had to spare. Her fingers ached because she held them in a fist too tightly. The pain was enough to shatter the whispers trying to fill her mind.

Stories … naught but fictions.

She walked forward, drawing no true notice from the people hurrying to finish up their chores. The houses were closer together in the village but that gave way to small farms as she kept walking. The night wind picked up and an owl sounded off from its perch in one of the trees. The moon only made fleeting appearances between clouds moving with the aid of the wind. She toyed with the idea of seeking some place to hide, but found herself too nervous to stop while the towers of Pherson’s castle were still in sight. At least the motion of walking kept her warm; she picked her feet up faster to fend off the deepening chill of night. Her nape tingled and she turned to see if someone was on the road behind her. Nothing moved and her ears strained to filter the night noises from anything made by men. Tension began to knot in her belly but her choices were walk or collapse in the face of her fears.

So she walked.

Pherson Dalry didn’t fear the night. It was the truth that he felt at ease covered by its darkening folds. Next to a woman’s embrace, there wasn’t anything he liked better.

His lips split into a grin.

Well, he did have to confess to liking the way a woman wrapped around him when she wasn’t wearing anything but skin. That was an embrace he was right fond of no matter how much the church preached against it. They didn’t care for dishonesty either, so he’d simple say it the way it was. He liked women, liked being naked with them.

He eyed Elspeth Leask. She turned again, making his grin grow broader. The girl had instincts, even if she didn’t have much experience using them when it came to playing stealthy games that involved escaping by night.

He hung back, using the strength in his thighs to gently squeeze his horse’s sides and keep the stallion silent. Elspeth kept going and he pulled on the reins to guide his horse at a slow pace that would keep her in his sights.