"My congratulations, madam. I wish you, Marcus, and all his paramours a happy union." Elise hurried past her toward the door.
"How dare you, you little—"
Elise yanked the door open and slammed it behind her as she stepped into the hallway, leaving Margaret's final words behind. She stumbled forward. Tears clouded her vision. She reached out a hand to the wall, steadying her progress, and discovered she still held the book. She gripped it tighter and took one wobbly step after another until she reached the stairs. She started down, but the sound of voices echoing up the stairwell stopped her. Cameron. She turned, scanning the hall for some form of escape, then remembered the small alcove around the bend she had just passed. She dashed up the stairs and down the corridor.
Elise reached the alcove and yanked back the tapestry, nearly falling headlong inside. She straightened, then turned and backed up, stopping only when her shoulders touched cold stone. Sliding to the floor, she dropped the book and hugged her knees to her chest.
"Nay." Even from the distance of the stairwell, Cameron's voice boomed within the narrow confines of the corridor. "'Tis likely he won't be back for several days."
"I hadna' realized he meant to stay so long in the fields," came Daniel's voice.
"He believes the Campbells mean to do mischief during the harvest."
"The guards around the wall remain on double watch," Daniel said.
Elise held her breath as they passed the alcove.
Cameron sighed. "His thirst for revenge is likely never to be quenched. He cannot forgive them for taking Elise."
She stifled a gasp. Winnie's words unexpectedly rang in her mind. "…it was Marcus who made it clear threats against his own would be met with an iron fist."
The male voices faded down the hallway and Elise rose to her feet. She tiptoed to the tapestry and drew the fabric back a fraction. She glanced left then right in the empty corridor, then stepped from the alcove and hurried to the stairs.
Memory of the previous night rose in even more vivid detail than when she'd faced Margaret. If not for the arrival of Marcus's guest, she would have given herself to him. Heat flared in her cheeks. He had held her intimately. So intimately that in her dreams he had caressed her, taken each nipple in his mouth as he slipped a finger between the wet folds of her womanhood. She had never experienced a dream so real… so erotic. Her vision blurred on the stairs and she slowed.
In her dream, it hadn't been him who took her, but she who had willingly parted her thighs, then pulled him between them. She had wrapped her hand around his swollen rod and teased him—teased herself—by rubbing the tip against her throbbing sex, then between the folds before finally guiding him inside her. Elise halted and collapsed back against the wall, her breath heavy and the throb between her legs as real now as it had been in the dream.
The cool of the stone penetrated the thin fabric of her servant's dress. She forced her breathing into a more natural rhythm, then started down the stairs again and didn't stop until she reached her room. Elise closed the door with a soft click. Her knees shook and she suddenly doubted her ability to cross the few paces to the bed.
"Fool," she hissed. She had almost spread her legs for him. A stab of longing startled her. Dear God, the deed would have meant nothing to him.
The unexpected sound of footsteps racing down the hallway jerked her attention to the door. The light tread belonged to a woman and she approached at a run. Elise darted from the door, headed for the screen in hopes of ducking behind the barrier. The footsteps halted outside her bedchamber and the door burst open before she reached the screen.
"Thank God!" Mary cried.
Elise whirled.
"You must come quickly!" Mary dashed across the room and grabbed her arm, then tugged her toward the door.
"What in God's name is wrong?" Elise wrenched free.
"'Tis Lady Margaret," Mary wailed. "She's in an awful fit and is sure to beat Jinny."
Elise pushed past Mary and rushed from the room, along the corridor, then down the steps into the great hall. She raced across the great hall, coming to a skidding halt in the kitchen.
Jinny cowered in a corner with Margaret standing over her.
"What is the meaning of this?" Elise demanded.
Margaret turned.
"Cease this nonsense," Elise ordered.
Margaret stared, slack-jawed.
"Close your mouth," Elise snapped. "In polite circles, it is considered rude to stare."
Margaret's mouth twisted into a gruesome frown. "How dare you?"
"What right have you to terrorize this household?"
Margaret's eyes gleamed with malicious satisfaction. "I have every right—as you know."
"Don't count your chickens before they are hatched. I venture Marcus will not take kindly to your actions."
"Marcus again, is it?"
Elise recognized the jealousy in the woman's eyes and gave her a calculated look. "Jinny," she addressed the young cook who still cowered, "fetch Cameron."
"Cameron?" Margaret's brows rose in a mocking manner.