Elizabeth’s first reaction had been fear. It had been as if she’d never left the Chatworth estates. Her mind raced over her repertoire of debilitating tricks to use on the men. But her thoughts went back to Sir Guy and how she’d broken his toes, how he’d hobbled for weeks—and later she’d sat with him, saw tears of worry gathering in his eyes over a man they both loved.
She would not return to her skulking, fearful ways. She’d come a long way in conquering her fear of men and she wasn’t going to throw all she’d learned away.
She’d turned to Roger and demanded that he send the men away immediately.
Roger’d been very surprised and had quickly hustled her out of the stables. He’d tried to patronize her but Elizabeth wouldn’t listen to him. The idea that his dear little sister would talk back to him shocked as well as hurt him. To his mind, he’d just rescued her from a hellhole and she was ungratefully complaining.
For the first time in her life, Elizabeth told her brother the whole truth about Edmund. Roger’s face had drained of blood, he’d staggered backward into a chair and looked as if someone had beaten him. All these years he’d thought he’d protected his dear little sister but, in truth, she’d lived in hell. He had no idea Edmund had summoned her from her convent whenever Roger left the estates. He didn’t know that she’d had to defend herself from his men.
By the time Elizabeth finished, Roger was ready to kill the men in the stables.
Roger Chatworth’s fury was something to be reckoned with. Within three days, he’d put fear in the hearts of his household. Many men were dismissed and if a man so much as looked at Elizabeth with slanted eyes, she went to Roger. No more was she going to stand for such insolence. Before, she’d not known how a lady should be treated, as her only experience was with Edmund, but now she’d had five months in a place where she didn’t have to be afraid of walking in a garden alone.
Roger had been taken aback by her demands and she realized how she and Brian had always protected him. Roger could be so kind and at the same time so cruel. She tried only once to talk to him about the Montgomerys, but Roger’d exploded with such h
atred, she feared for his life.
Since it had been months since he’d seen her, he quickly noticed the changes in her body, remarked that she’d put on weight. Elizabeth had put her chin in the air and, with no regret, stated that she carried Miles Montgomery’s child.
She bad expected rage—she was prepared for rage but the deep, deep hurt in Roger’s eyes threw her off balance.
“Go. Leave me,” he’d whispered and she obeyed.
Alone in her room, Elizabeth’d cried herself to sleep as she had every night since leaving Miles. Would Miles realize she’d gone with Roger to save her lover? Or would Miles hate her? What would they tell Kit about where Elizabeth had gone? She lay on her bed and thought of all the people she’d come to care about in Scotland.
She longed to send a message to someone in Scotland but there was no one she could trust to deliver it. But yesterday, as she took her afternoon walk, an old woman she’d never seen before offered her a basket of bread. She started to refuse it until the woman lifted the cloth and showed a MacArran cockade. Elizabeth grabbed the basket quickly and the old woman was gone before Elizabeth could thank her. Greedily, she tore into the basket.
There was a message from Bronwyn saying she well understood why Elizabeth’d returned with Roger—but Miles didn’t. Sir Guy had been hit with three arrows but they thought he’d live. While Miles was untended, he’d gone into a rage, torn all his stitches apart. When Morag found him he was in a fever and for three days they didn’t believe he’d live. Stephen had returned from Raine’s outlaw camp as soon as he heard Miles had been injured. He bore the news that Raine was taking young Brian under his wing and Stephen had every hope of there soon being peace between the two families. Bronwyn added that Miles was recovering slowly and he refused to mention Elizabeth’s name.
Today, as Elizabeth thought of that last sentence, her skin grew cold, making her shiver.
“You should have a cloak,” Roger said from behind her.
“No,” she murmured, “my plaid is enough.”
“Why do you flaunt that thing in front of me?” Roger exploded. “Isn’t it enough that you carry a Montgomery within you? Do you have to slap me in the face every time I see you?”
“Roger, I want this hatred to end. I want—”
“You want to be my enemy’s whore!” he snarled.
With one quick angry look she turned away from him.
He caught her arm, his eyes soft as he looked at her. “Can you see this from my side? I spent months in hell looking for you. I went to Raine Montgomery to ask where you were, yet he drew a sword on me. If his new wife hadn’t stepped between us I’d be dead now. I went to the king on my knees and do you think that was easy? I bear no love for the man since he’s fined me so heavily for what happened to Mary Montgomery, but for you I’d have gone on my knees before the devil.”
He paused, put his hands on both her arms. “And getting in and out of Scotland was no easy task either, yet when I found you you were cuddled beside Montgomery as if you wanted to become a part of him. And the playacting you did! I felt as if I were the enemy because I was rescuing my own sister from a man who’d held her captive and taken her virtue. Explain all this to me, Elizabeth,” he whispered.
She leaned her head forward to touch his chest. “How can I? How can I tell you what has happened to me in the last few months? I’ve seen love and—”
“Love!” he said. “Do you think that if a man takes you to his bed, he loves you? Has Montgomery sworn undying love to you? Has he asked to make a Chatworth his wife?”
“No, but—” she began.
“Elizabeth, you know so little of men. You were a pawn in this feud. Don’t you know that the Montgomerys are laughing because a Chatworth bears a Montgomery child? They’ll think they’ve won.”
“Won!” she spat at him, pulling away. “I hate this all being thought of as a game. What should I tell my child, that he was a chess piece, used by two families in their silly war?”
“Silly? How can you say that when Brian is out there somewhere, possibly hating me because of the Montgomerys?”