“I have no idea, but I’ll find out.” Shamus’s lips tightened grimly. “No one does this to a guest at Killara. You can bet I’ll have a few questions to put to Rosa after we get the wedding out of the way.”

“You do that,” Dominic said. “But right now making sure that Elspeth is protected is more important than asking questions. We’ll leave after the ceremony. I don’t think Elspeth will want to stay here any longer than necessary under the circumstances. We’ll need two burros readied as pack animals. Tell Ramon to saddle my horse and the gray Elspeth rode yesterday.”

“Anything else?” Shamus’s tone was threaded with irony. “I’d advise you to wait until you come back with your saddlebags stuffed with gold before you start giving me orders, Dominic.”

“Just one more thing.” Dominic stopped at the head of the stairs to look down at Shamus. “I hope to God you’re telling me the truth, because if I find out you did this to Elspeth, I swear I’ll find a way of punishing you, Da. Do you understand?”

Shamus glared up at him fiercely, then a faint smile curved his lips. “Oh, yes, I understand, Dominic. Who could understand you better?” He turned back to the parlor. “Now, run along and try to pacify your sweet little Scottish bride-to-be.” He frowned. “I have to tell Malvina we have a wedding in the offing. She’ll probably want to check Miss Beetle’s book on the proper etiquette involved.”

Dominic gazed after him blankly. Etiquette? The entire world had gone mad. He turned and strode down the hall toward Elspeth’s room.

16

Elspeth failed to answer when Dominic knocked on the door. He repeated the knock, waited a moment, then opened the door and stepped into the room.

“I don’t wish to speak to you.” She folded the black gown in her hands and put it into the open portmanteau on the bed. She didn’t look at him as she turned, crossed the room to the armoire, took out her black cloak, and returned to the portmanteau. “I don’t want to see you. I don’t even want to think about you.” Her hands were trembling as she tucked the folds of the voluminious garment into the bag. “I have no intention of having anything to do with you or any other Delaney for the remainder of my life.”

“We have to talk.” Dominic closed the door and leaned back against it, watching her as she moved across the room to the armoire again. She looked so damn fragile with that full pink nightgown billowing around her. Slender bare feet peeped from beneath the hem of the flannel gown at every step, and lashes, spiky with the tears she refused to shed, cast shadows on her thin cheeks and half-veiled eyes. His heart twisted with tenderness that served to lessen the rage he still felt at the situation. Poor little owl. He could scarcely blame her for wanting to forget the existence of the entire Delaney clan. “You have a right to be angry, but it doesn’t alter the fact that what happened between us last night has to be faced and dealt with.”

She didn’t look at him as she jerked another gown out of the armoire. “I have no wish to face it, I intend to forget it. There is no reason why I should remember you or anything that happened here at Killara.” Her back was very straight as she turned toward the bed and began to fold the gown. “You will have no place in my life in the future, and I’ll not let you or your fine parents make me feel shame or-” Her voice broke and she stopped to draw a deep breath. “Please. Leave me.”

“I can’t do that.” Dominic cleared his throat to relieve its tightness. He didn’t know if he could ever force himself to leave her again. He wanted to sit down and cradle her on his knees, he wanted to stroke her slender shoulders, to tell her she didn’t have to be brave and struggle through this alone. He wanted to tell her that he would always be at her side when she needed him.

But he couldn’t tell her that with any degree of certainty. His chances of survival were thin. She would be better off without him. “There are matters we must discuss. You’re upset or you probably would have remembered that there could be consequences from last night.” He paused. “What if you’re with child?”

She whirled to face him, her eyes enormous in her pale face.

“I promised you I’d protect our child, Elspeth.” He met her eyes gravely. “You’ve got to let me keep that promise.”

She moistened her lips with her tongue. “Do you feel certain I really might be with child? It seems unreasonable that I should be punished for sinning only the once.”

Tenderness touched him again, mixed with guilt and another emotion he didn’t want to define. “It wasn’t a sin,” he said gently. “Or if it was, the sin was mine.” He straightened and moved toward her. “And no, it’s not certain. Often a man and woman must lie together many times to beget a child.” He stopped in front of her. “But we can’t take the chance, can we? You wouldn’t want to bring a bastard into the world.”

She flinched. “No, I wouldn’t want-” She blinked rapidly to keep back the tears. “So much pain. I would never want to cause a helpless child that much pain. Oh, I should have stopped you. I did sin.”

He touched her cheek with his index finger. “You couldn’t have stopped me.” His index finger moved to stroke her lower lip with gossamer lightness. “I ravished you, remember?”

He was ravishing her now, she thought hazily. Ravishing her senses, robbing her of resistance, taking away her anger with the exquisite tenderness in his words and his touch. “Yes. I do remember.”

Once more his finger traced the outline of her lip. “Then you know I’m entirely at fault and must make atonement.”

Atonement. She felt a sharp pain. Her lashes lowered to hide her eyes. “It would not be honest of me to let you shoulder the entire blame,” she said haltingly. “I was not myself; I offered no resistance. I can see how you might have mistaken my acquiesence.”