The Border Lord and the Lady (47 page)

“There is no escape now that the king and queen will be here for our marriage,” he teased her. “I look forward to our wedding night.”

“As do I,” Cicely surprised him by saying.

“Indeed, madam?” He looked at her quizzically.

“Should I not enjoy our bedsport then?” she asked him. “You say you do not like me, my lord. That I am naught but breeding stock for Glengorm. I do not like you, but I will admit that night we spent together was wonderful. I will respect your position as laird of Glengorm, and you will respect mine as lady. It is enough, and we do not have to like each other to enjoy our bedsport together, do we?”

Never in his thirty-plus years had a woman ever spoken so candidly, so frankly to him. He had enjoyed their bedsport too, but it occurred to him that if he had and if she had, there had to be something more than just pleasure between them. And if there were, what was it? She was confusing him, Kier decided. “Respect and a mutual enjoyment of bedsport,” he said to her. “It is more than most couples
begin with, madam.” Reaching out, he cupped her face with a hand, and to his surprise she did not pull away or scold him. Bending, he touched her lips with his, and to his surprise she willingly kissed him back. His arm went about her waist as the kiss deepened, continued, as their tongues entwined and stroked. He considered other uses for their tongues, and his cock hardened.

Cicely was enjoying the never-ending kiss. Her nipples had hardened, and she was already wet, tingling, ready to be taken. But no! She was going to make him wait, because while she enjoyed this sensual play, she would never allow Kier to think he was totally in charge of the passion they would share. She gently pushed him away.

He looked down at her, surprised, puzzled.

“Forgive me for teasing,” she said, as if she had entrapped him in some manner. “I know we are both experienced, but I should prefer to wait until our wedding night.” Standing on her tiptoes, she kissed his cheek. “Good night, my lord.” And then, turning quickly, she slipped into her bedchamber with a last regretful smile at him.

Hearing the key turn in the door’s lock, he was suddenly furious. He would kick down the damned barrier between them and take her then and there. But then he remembered their royal guests. Would they hear the uproar from the comfort of their beautiful chamber behind the hall? Or would they hear nothing at all? He couldn’t take the chance of offending James Stewart, but then and there he decided that Cicely would pay for her flirtatious behavior. His cock and his balls ached with his need. Angry, he retired to his own chamber, undressed, and flung himself into a cold bed.

The next day the king delighted the Douglas clansmen and -women by visiting the village. He told them himself that he would leave on the morrow, but return in time for the wedding of their laird and Cicely. “But my queen shall remain behind, visiting with the beloved companion of her childhood and youth, your own lady. Guard her well, my good friends. Keep Glengorm safe for my return.” He drank a cup of whiskey with them, praised their past loyalty, and then
left them. The next morning James Stewart rode out with his men for Ben Duff.

The laird of Glengorm accompanied the king, for Kier Douglas did not believe, to his annoyance, that he would be able to resist Cicely until their wedding day. If he forced the issue he knew he would be furious with himself for his weakness, and that Cicely would find a way to make him pay for coercing her, even though her own lust obviously burned as hot as his. His bride, he was learning, was a woman with whom to be reckoned.

Watching him go, the former servant Bethia walked from the village. No one paid her any particular attention, for she carried a small basket, and it was assumed she was gathering something. Walking about the loch, she trudged across the small meadow and up the wooded hillside, avoiding the line of sight from the sturdy stone redoubt as she came. The other side of the hill had been cleared almost completely of trees to avoid a surprise attack. Bethia hurried down the hillside using what trees remained to shield her flight. Several hours later she reached her destination, an isolated cottage on the edge of a wood. Walking up to the door of the cottage, she knocked, and the door was opened almost immediately. Bethia stepped into the dwelling’s single room.

“Sister, what brings you here?” The man beckoned her forward to join him on a rough-hewn settle by the fire.

“The queen is at Glengorm, Durwin,” Bethia said. “Gather your men, and plan your attack. Slay them all and the Douglases will never regain prominence.”

Durwin Grahame looked his sister in the eye. “Nay,” he told her. “It is not yet time, Bethia. Besides, we should be hunted down on both sides of the border if we attacked Glengorm when Queen Joan was in residence, and did her any harm. She is the English king’s kin, married to Scotland’s king, woman. Where is your good sense?”

“But what better time to destroy the Douglases, brother?” Bethia demanded.

“We have not yet the men to overcome Glengorm,” he answered her.

“But this new laird has gone off with the king,” she persisted. “Without him the Douglases would fall.”

“Is Frang no longer captain of the guard then?” Durwin asked.

“Frang is a good fighter, but he is no leader,” Bethia said.

“I understand your desire to take your revenge on the lady of Glengorm, but this is not the time, sister. Ian Douglas is dead and buried. Was not that enough for you?”

“I want
her
to suffer as I have suffered,” Bethia snarled.

Durwin laughed. “Your man has been beating you regularly then, has he?”

“When you come to Glengorm,” his sister answered venomously, “I will slay him myself, and his old mother, then blame the deaths upon the
English
raiders,” Bethia said. “And I will quit Glengorm, then, for the clanfolk have never really liked me. I will come home and keep house for you, brother.”

God forbid!
Durwin Grahame thought to himself.
I suppose I shall have to see you slain in that raid as well or live out my old age shackled to you. Nay! I intend bringing back some nubile young lass from Glengorm to warm my bed and keep my cottage. The little bitch might even give me a bairn or two. ’Tis past time I got myself a legitimate heir. Aye, I’ll not tolerate my sister any longer than I must.
“The Scots king will go into the north eventually, Bethia. And all the good border lords will go with him and take the bulk of their own men, who defend their houses and keeps. By that time I will have rebuilt my own forces, and it is then, but not before then, that we shall attack Glengorm. You will have your revenge, sister. I told you not to wed with your Douglas, but you would not listen, Bethia. You thought he loved you, when all he sought was someone to care for his mam. You were fortunate to be able to insinuate yourself into the laird’s household, sister, else you would have been dead long since.”

“If I must wait, then I must wait,” Bethia said, irritated, but finally
resigned. “I’ll cook your supper and stay the night. I don’t have time to return.”

“Won’t your man miss you?” Durwin asked.

“I told him Mab needed extra help at the house because of the queen’s visit, and had called on me because of my experience,” Bethia said.

“He believed you?” Durwin laughed.

“All he could think of was the coin I would receive for my services,” she answered her brother scornfully.

“And when you have no coin to give him?” he queried her.

“I will simply tell him the lady refused to pay me,” Bethia said. “He will not question me further, for I shall feign outrage. Nor will he go to the lady,” she said with a shrug. “I’ll be extra gentle and kind to his old mother, and cook his favorite supper. It’s unlikely he’ll beat me then. Especially if I see that he has enough drink to put him to sleep.”

“You’re just like our mam,” Durwin said. “A nasty piece of work, Bethia.”

Bethia cackled with appreciation, and then began to make preparations for her brother’s supper. Their mother
had
been a nasty piece of work. “Thank you,” she said to him. “You could not have given me a better compliment.”

The next morning, as soon as it was light, Bethia set out on her return journey to Glengorm. When her husband held out his hand for the coin she was supposed to have earned, she broke into a tirade. Her explanation had Callum Douglas satisfied, if irritated. He cuffed her once to show his displeasure with her, with the lady, and with the world in general.

The queen came into the village that afternoon, and charmed all of the clanfolk. One of the clansmen took her and Cicely out rowing upon Loch Beag,
beag
being the Scots word for
little
. The trees about the water were turning their autumn colors. Cicely’s two white terriers had accompanied them and, paws on the gunwales of the boat, they barked at anything that moved upon the shoreline.

“They be good watchdogs, for all their wee size,” the clansman rowing the boat noted dryly. Then he chuckled, for a fish leaped from the waters of the loch, sending the terriers into a frenzy of yapping. Cicely and the queen had to hold on to the dogs to keep them from leaping from their little vessel.

It was almost like old times for the two young women. Happy to be together, they hardly left each other’s side. The queen had put many a nose out of joint by leaving her women behind. Only her beloved elderly tiring woman, Bess, had accompanied her. Bess was spending her days either dozing in the hall by the fire or gossiping with Orva, while Cicely and the young queen amused themselves walking, playing cards, and talking for hours on end. The queen was concerned that she had birthed two daughters. While healthy and strong, neither was the desired prince and heir. And now, pregnant again, she feared another daughter would be born.

“They say it is my fault,” Joan Beaufort told Cicely. “But Jamie’s mother birthed four sisters and three sons, of which only he and his brother David reached adulthood. David was murdered by his uncle, the Duke of Albany. That is why Jamie was to be sent to France, for safety’s sake. His poor father realized too late the duplicity of his brother.”

“There is nothing for it but that you must keep having children until you give Scotland its prince,” Cicely replied. “That is your duty.”

“Your little Johanna is a beautiful baby,” the queen remarked. “Thank you for naming her after me, but why was I not her godmother?”

“I didn’t think the king would allow it, as he still felt anger towards Ian for abducting me when he planned to see me married into the Gordons,” Cicely answered. “Will you be godmother to the first child I bear Kier?”

“Are you enceinte?” the queen inquired, curious.

“Nay, we are not yet wed,” Cicely replied primly.

“But he’s certainly bedded you, hasn’t he? He doesn’t look like a man to take nay for an answer.”

“Once, but I have held him at bay ever since,” Cicely said with a smile. “He has the most amazing effect upon me, Jo. He kisses me, and I become absolutely wanton. It was not that way with Ian. I cared for Ian. I don’t even particularly like Kier Douglas.”

The queen laughed. “It is said that strong dislike often leads to love,” she told Cicely. “Perhaps without realizing it you are falling in love with him.”

“Never!” Cicely said vehemently. “I lust after him. Nothing more.” But Cicely was beginning to wonder if that was true. Could she love a man like Kier? A man who professed distain for her, who thought of her only as a means to his own immortality?

She considered the two Douglas men with whom she was or had been involved. Ian had loved her enough to risk offending James Stewart. For all his reckless behavior he had been honorable, a good man and a good laird. The Glengorm folk had adored him, and his own brother had been willing to die for him. And she had come to care for him. Not with the deep passion he held for her, she admitted to herself. But she had felt affection and respect for Ian Douglas. She knew now that she could have been happy spending her life with him. Why was it one always realized these things too late?

Kier, on the other hand, was an entirely different matter. He was a hard man with a strong sense of duty to Clan Douglas. Perhaps it was his nature, or perhaps because of the circumstances of his birth he felt a need to excel, to please his father, to prove that he was as worthy as any. And yet his mother had been a Stewart, a lady. And his father’s wife had loved him as her own. Yet Sir William had not bothered to legitimate his eldest son. And whether he said it or not, that must have stung this proud man.

Especially considering that the wife he was about to take had been born under similar circumstances. While Cicely’s mother had not been noble, as Kier’s mother had been, her father had cared enough
for her and the child she bore him to make Cicely’s birth a legitimate one. Could that fact alone cause Kier Douglas to despise her? Or would it not matter to him as long as she gave him the sons he required? Might they come to care for each other one day? But it didn’t matter if they did or they didn’t. In a few days’ time they would be wed to each other. Cicely sighed so deeply that the queen looked at her to see if all was well, but then, realizing her friend had obviously been in deep thought, Joan Beaufort said nothing.

Glengorm prepared for the wedding of its new laird to the widow of the previous laird. As the day that would mark the first anniversary of Ian Douglas’s death approached, Cicely found herself growing sadder. Once again the fact that this big, full-of-life man was gone reached out to touch her. How could such a thing have happened? But she knew the answer. The Grahames. The bloody Grahames. But she had sworn to her dying husband not to begin a feud. Ian had understood the futility of it. Still, given the opportunity to have her revenge upon them, she would have taken it.

Kier Douglas returned to Glengorm the day before the first-year commemoration would be celebrated. He would go to the Mass with Cicely, to be held at Glengorm Church on the morrow. The king would come on the sixteenth. That he had not returned with Kier to honor Ian Douglas told Cicely that James Stewart still held a grudge against the man who had boldly abducted her. It saddened her, but then, she knew the king was a hard man who would brook no disobedience to his will.