"You expect me to believe you are so foolish?"
She gave a harsh laugh. "Believe what you will."
"I believe you are lying."
"Why bother coming for me, then?"
For the thousandth time, Marcus saw Elise as Katie MacGregor had been when she was found raped and beaten. He yanked Elise to him, his mouth crashing down on hers. She shoved at his chest, but he only tightened his arms around her and roughened the kiss. He thrust his tongue inside her mouth and felt her body stiffen in surprise then slacken against him. Her breath quickened. Marcus remembered the couch only a few feet away, but she abruptly wrenched her mouth free. He hugged her close, burying his head in her hair.
"Elise," he whispered hoarsely. "When I think—" his voice caught. "They had their hands on you." He hugged her even closer. "Never again."
He kissed her neck, placed gentle kisses behind her ear and down to where neck met shoulder. She gasped, and he lifted his head to look down into her wide eyes. He lowered his mouth to hers, tenderly this time, moving slowly until her lips softened beneath his. She gave a sudden small gasp, then pushed away, her hand going to her lips. He focused on the action.
"Ohhh," she drew out the word on a soft breath.
Marcus stepped toward her. She backed up until the chair before his desk barred her retreat. He halted, his body inches from her. She gripped the top of the chair, then stepped aside, shoving the chair toward him. Marcus reached for her. The chair hit his shin. Pain shot through his leg, but he stumbled forward, grabbing for her. His fingers closed around thin air as she dashed for the door and disappeared down the corridor.
Chapter Six
Movement to his left caused Marcus to jerk his head in the direction of the woman emerging from the kitchen into the hall. She was not Elise. The woman's brown hair had fooled him for an instant. He shoved his chair back, rose from his seat, and strode to the kitchen. He stepped aside for another serving maid as she hurried past into the hall with a plate of food in hand. He scanned the kitchen. Elise wasn't among the women serving the evening meal.
By God, she was avoiding him.
Why she was avoiding him, he knew; how she had managed to do so for a day and a half, he suspected could be answered by Winnie, who, oddly enough, was also absent. He turned and headed for the postern door, wincing at the ache in his knee. Once in the quiet of the brightly lit courtyard, he veered north toward the cottages.
"Marcus."
Marcus glanced over his shoulder at the sound of his father's call and stopped at sight of the MacLaren warrior walking alongside Cameron. They halted in front of Marcus.
"Brian here has brought a message from Declan." Cameron looked at the man. "Go ahead, lad."
"Declan wanted ye to know there's been Campbells on MacLaren land."
"When?" Marcus demanded.
"Three days in a row now."
"You haven't caught any of them?"
Brian snorted. "The bastards are getting better at running."
"They are," Marcus agreed, then asked, "You will stay the night?"
"Aye."
"Good. Be ready at first light. I'll travel back with you. Have some supper." He motioned toward the great hall, then looked back at his father. "Cameron, I wish to speak with you." Marcus waited until Brian was out of earshot, then said, "Have Elise moved into the castle while I am gone."
Cameron showed no surprise at the request. "What reason should I give?"
"Ask if she plans on living with Winnie the rest of her life."
His father gave an approving look. "I will put her in the west wing's private suite."
"Nay," Marcus said. "The east wing, the room nearest mine.
Cameron frowned. "'Tis hard on you, her sharing a cottage with Winnie, but to put her in the lady's quarters next to yours is going a bit far the other direction."
"The guest room, Cameron," Marcus said. "Not in the adjoining room—at least, not yet."
"At least, not yet?" Cameron exclaimed.
Two men passing turned their heads at his raised voice.
He glanced at them, then leaned in closer to Marcus. "That's a bit obvious, don't you think, lad? A man doesna' flaunt his mistress."
Marcus raised a brow. "Aye."
His father blinked. "What? Are you saying what I think you're saying?"
"I am."
Cameron rubbed his chin. "I have never known you to take advantage of a woman under your protection."
"I have no intention of doing so now," Marcus replied, though he couldn't help the mental image of how much he would relish taking advantage.
Cameron regarded him. "I thought you would not marry again. 'Tis ten years since Jenna died."
"I hadn't planned on remarrying."
"You have a son and, at your age, you need not marry."
Marcus gave a short laugh. "I needn't do much of anything, Father."
Cameron gave a single nod. "Your marriage to Jenna wasn't one of love." His mouth turned down wryly. "You always were the politician. You should have told King George to go to the devil when he insisted you marry the wench."
"I have no regrets," Marcus replied. "And I shall have none now."