Chapter 12
Eliza could not face the prospect of seeing Iona Drummond at the dinner table, so she had her meal sent to her room, but managed to eat only half of it, since her appetite had completely vanished.
She decided to use her time constructively instead of moping, however, and made her way down to the secret room where Duncan’s mother had mixed her powders and potions.
Eliza loved the earthy floral scent that filled the room, and spent a few moments with her eyes closed breathing in the sweet aroma; it soothed her somewhat, and when she opened them again she felt much calmer.
She went to fetch the dirk and spent a few moments examining it and weighing it in her palm before she grasped it and threw it at the target on the wall.
To her complete astonishment, the slim blade sliced through the air and penetrated the target in the dead centre of the circle—the first time she had ever managed to do so.
Eliza clapped her hands, laughing, then retrieved the dirk and tried again. This time she was well wide of the mark, but she persevered, and although she did not succeed in doing as well as she had done on her first effort, which she regarded as a fluke, she was improving.
The unaccustomed exercise had made Eliza’s arm sore, and eventually, she put the dirk down and took out the phials of poisons and antidotes that Duncan had shown her to try to memorise their names.
However, she had been concentrating so hard on her practice with the dirk that it had chased all thoughts of Duncan out of her mind, but now they came rushing back with full force. She wondered if he had missed her at dinner, or if her presence meant anything to him at all.
He will be too busy entertaining Iona, she thought bitterly, remembering the other woman’s finely sculpted face, whose beauty held such badness inside.
Once again, she shook the thought of both of them out of her mind and tried to think of her sisters.
Juliet would no doubt be reading a book at this hour, whereas Margot would be sipping a glass of ale—because their father kept all the wine for himself—and painting or drawing, since she was a fine artist.
The warmth of love in the little circle of sisters was so strong that Eliza’s heart ached as she thought of Margot and Juliet. Yet, it was still aching for someone else too, and she wondered how she was going to face Duncan again.
It was foolish to care about him, Eliza knew, but the more she tried to convince herself of that and put him out of her mind, the more her heart rebelled and refused to do so. The betrothal was not real. The marriage would never happen, so what good would it do to fall in love with him?
Eliza was thinking so hard that when footsteps sounded behind her, she whipped around, raising the dirk, then gave a deep sigh of relief as she saw that it was Duncan. However, she took a step away from him, almost as though he were too dangerous to be near.
“I have been looking for you. I missed you at dinner,” he declared, frowning.
“You had Lady Iona to keep you company,” Eliza pointed out.
“She bores me,” he replied, frowning. “You don’t, Eliza. Why do you want to stay away from me?”
“I was not hungry,” she replied. “Anyway, why should I want to keep company with a man who put me in such an awkward situation as you did this afternoon? I had to lie my way out of it. You should never have put me in that position!”
“What was I supposed to do?” he asked furiously. “I thought you might be able to ride with us for a little while. Could you not have tried?”
His face was crimson with fury, and he ran his hands through his hair in a gesture of great agitation. Even though Eliza was also seething with rage, she found the gesture deeply arousing—was he losing control of himself? And if so, was she the cause?
“Could you not have made an excuse to Lady Muck and told her you had duties to attend to?” Eliza demanded. “Are you in charge here, or has she suddenly become the Laird?”
Duncan watched the lantern light shining on Eliza’s face.
Her face was set in a furious glare and every part of her seemed tensed up.
The hand holding the dirk was clutched around it so tightly that her knuckles showed white under her skin, and for a moment, he feared for his safety.
He had never seen her quite so furious before, and had no idea what she was capable of.
She had a fiercer temper than any woman he had ever known—he had no idea what she might do if she became carried away in a fit of rage.
He took a step forward, intent on disarming her, but Eliza took a corresponding step back, her blazing dark eyes never leaving his face.
Duncan reached for her, but his hand barely touched Eliza’s shoulder before she turned away, and the dirk slipped from her hand then clattered onto the floor.
Both of them stood looking at it for a moment, then Eliza tried to dive down to snatch it up, but Duncan was too quick for her.
He pushed her away with his hand on her shoulder and grabbed it before she could move, then he tucked it into his belt, giving her a triumphant smile.
Eliza tried to calm down, but it was a battle she was losing.
“I know ours is a false betrothal,” she snapped, “but it angers me to see you with Lady Drummond—she has been very unpleasant to me. She makes me feel so small, and you sit there and let her do it. You never stand up for me. What kind of man are you?”
She raked him with a scathing glance from head to foot.
Duncan said nothing for a moment. He was confused and furious in equal measure, and he wanted to take his frustration out on her—and there was only one way he could think of to do it.
She looked so damn gorgeous when she was angry, her eyes burning with dark fire, her whole body as tense as a cat about to spring on its prey. He wanted to be that prey.
Duncan reached out and tried to pull her towards him. She was having none of it, however, and pushed him away as hard as she could so that he stumbled backwards, almost falling on the hard stone flags.
“What do you want from me?” Eliza demanded angrily. “Our relationship is false—it is all for show—a means to an end, but why does it sometimes feel so real? Why did you kiss me? I need the truth, and I am prepared to stand here all night and wait if I have to!”
She stood facing him, hands on hips, chest thrust out defiantly.
Duncan stood staring at Eliza for a long moment.
He wanted her, his body was throbbing and hardening with desire, and he could sense that she felt the same.
Her deep brown eyes were even darker than usual, and she was visibly trembling.
And here they were both in this small room together, out of sight and hearing of anyone else. Anything could happen.
Duncan reached out and pulled Eliza into his arms, meeting only token resistance this time. She smelled of rosewater, citrus and her own musk, a heady mixture that was beginning to make him feel a little light-headed.
“Eliza,” he whispered, “I promise you that I would much rather have spent my time with you than with Iona. You are funnier, more intelligent and far more beautiful. You are everything she is not!”
Eliza laughed cynically. “More beautiful? Is there something wrong with your eyes, Duncan? Iona is lovely.”
She waited for a few seconds, watching as he tried to compose a suitable answer, seeing that he was struggling with the words.
At last, he said firmly, “No, Eliza. Beauty is in the eye of the beholder, Eliza, and to me, Iona Drummond cannot hold a candle to you. She may be wealthy and know all the right people, but she is a snob who thinks everyone else is beneath her.”
“She is Scottish,” Eliza pointed out, trying to ignore the wonderful sensations that were flowing through her because Duncan’s firm male body was pressed against hers.
Duncan sighed in exasperation. “I care nothing about that.” Then his gaze softened, and he said huskily, “Eliza…”
Then he lowered his lips to hers with a tenderness that she could never have believed possible.
Eliza stopped resisting. In fact, had the world ended that second, she could not have moved out of Duncan’s embrace. He pulled her closer and Eliza felt something hard rubbing against her lower body.
His lips began to caress hers with more pressure and passion, and she returned it in equal measure, loving the taste of him. When his tongue invaded her mouth and began to rub against hers, she imitated him and heard him moan in pleasure.
Duncan drew away from Eliza with great reluctance and looked down at her, his eyes shining. “My god, Eliza,” he whispered. “You make me so glad to be a man. I want… no, I need you, lass. Let me show you how much.”
Eliza felt her cheeks redden with embarrassment. “Duncan, I-I have never… I don’t know what to do.”
Duncan gazed at her in disbelief for a moment. She was a virgin—he had never been with an innocent before, and the idea excited him so much that he felt himself hardening almost painfully.
“I can teach you,” he told her, his eyes glinting with wicked delight as he looked down at her.
“Will you?” Eliza gasped, then, looking at the tempting fullness of his lower lip, she touched it with her forefinger and Duncan sucked it into his mouth. The tickling sensation of his tongue sent pleasure straight to Eliza’s core, and she giggled. “Yes, please, Duncan. I want you to teach me.”
“I will be the best teacher you could wish for,” he growled, as a slow, wicked smile spread over his face.
Then he looked around the little room with a sinking feeling. It was hardly the place for a young woman’s introduction to the pleasures of love; he had no wish for Eliza’s first experience to be on a stone floor!
“You’re coming with me,” he whispered, then, to Eliza’s astonishment and delight, Duncan swept her off her feet and into his arms, and then he carried her via a circuitous maze of corridors till they reached the corridor where Duncan’s chamber was situated.