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Authors: Virginia Henley

Tags: #horses, #king, #castles, #borders, #royalty, #border lord, #scottish sensual lovers historical romance, #cattle raid

A Rough Wooing (6 page)

BOOK: A Rough Wooing
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She glanced guiltily at the window she had
smashed and saw it had already been repaired with a new pane of
glass. She also noticed a map of the Borders lying on the desk, and
she studied it intently, tracing her finger along the route she
intended to take, and committing it to memory.

When the servant entered the library with a
breakfast tray, she crossed the room and took it from him. “It
smells good. Thank you so much.” She was glad he had included a mug
of ale and wondered if Greystoke had ordered it for her.

“Is there anything else I can get you, my
lady.”

“No, this is perfect. Thank you.”

When he left, she took it to the desk, sat
down in a chair, and devoured the food as quickly as she could. She
drank the ale and wiped her mouth with the back of her hand. Then
she picked up the priceless mirrored pendant, fastened it securely
to her linen shirt, lifted its silver chain over her head, then
donned her leather doublet.

Douglas went to the library window, unlocked
it, raised the sash, and climbed out. She silently lowered the
window, and headed toward the stables. Last night she had seen that
Greystoke’s prize thoroughbreds were safely in their stalls, and
she knew they would still be there. But with any luck some of his
less valuable horses would be out in the pasture behind the
stables.

As unobtrusively as possible, she made her
way to the field, and heaved a sigh of relief when she saw three or
four horses cropping the spring grass. There was a small mare close
to a barred gate in the stone wall. As she moved around the wall it
blocked anyone from seeing her. The difficult part would be opening
the gate and getting the animal through it.

It had a bridle, but no bit or saddle of
course, and she was glad she knew how to ride bareback. She moved
quickly, opening the gate halfway, and leading the horse through
it. She grabbed its mane and mounted with all the speed she could
muster, and trotted away.

When she was a short distance from the
Beaumont stables, she urged the mare into a gallop, and did not
look back. If anyone had seen her, she was determined that they
would never catch her.

Instead of riding north to the Scottish
Border, Douglas headed west. Her cousin Will had said her brother
Jock was accompanying King James to Berwick, and she knew she must
get word to Jock that Gavin and Rob were prisoners in Carlisle
Castle. “They’ve likely left Berwick by now,” she told the mare.
“Where will their next stop be?”

In her mind Douglas went over the castles in
the English Borders of Northumberland.

“Of course! The Earl of Northumberland will
want to ingratiate himself with his new king and will offer
hospitality at his castle of Alnwick.”
Hellfire, that must be
more than fifty miles away.

Douglas rode on determinedly until the pale
spring sun was directly overhead and she decided it must be close
to the hour of noon. When she came to the next stream, she
dismounted and allowed her mare to drink. She quenched her own
thirst, and splashed her face with the cool water. She had no idea
how far she had come, nor how far she still had to travel, so she
remounted and pressed on with dogged determination.

After she had ridden an hour or so through
the rolling hills and dales she heard the distinctive sound of
horses, and wagons. This told her there must be a road nearby. Then
she heard voices and laughter. She drew rein and waited for the
travelers. Her hand went to her hair.
I must look a fright,
wearing breeches and riding bareback.
As soon as the traveling
party came into view she waved and gave them a friendly smile.

There were two men and two women who were
mounted; the others who were obviously their servants rode in a
baggage wagon. They all gave her curious stares, then one of the
men said, “You must be going to Hexham.”

“Hexham?” she echoed.

The lady who was his wife explained, “Langley
Castle. We are going to welcome our new King. We are at the head of
the cavalcade. There must be scores behind us.”

Douglas remembered that Langley was another
castle owned by the Earl of Northumberland. “Yes, that’s where I’m
going. Do you mind if I ride with you?”

In less than an hour, the four towers of
Langley Castle came into view. When they rode into the bailey it
was packed with carts and wagons. Douglas lost no time dismounting
and leading her mare to the stables. Obviously there were already
people here, and crowds more were on their way.

She threw a stableman a ravishing smile. “I
know you are expecting King James. My brother is one of his
attendants. May I put my mare in the stable?”

He grinned at her. “All these stalls are
reserved for the royal party, but there’s plenty of room in the
pasture.”

Her smile widened. “You are a gentleman, sir.
Could I have a few oats? She’s had a hard ride today.”

“Leave her with me. I’ll feed her and put her
out back.”

Douglas tried to slip into the Great Hall of
Langley Castle without being noticed, but the first servant she
encountered bowed to her. “My lady.”

When it happened a second time, she thought
they were mistaking her for someone, and wondered if she should
admit she needed help. Then she remembered that the Percy family
had red hair.
The servants must think I’m related to the Earl of
Northumberland.
Perhaps I can use the knowledge to my
advantage. This calls for a magnificent lie. Perhaps the English
will swallow lies a hell of a lot faster than the truth.

Douglas climbed one of the square towers and
found a serving woman who was making beds with fresh linen. “Excuse
me, but I need your help. I just rode in from Alnwick Castle and my
baggage has gone amiss. Uncle Percy will be furious if he finds me
wearing breeches when King James arrives.”

The woman looked her up and down. “I can
understand that, mistress.”

“I’m sure my aunt keeps some of her clothes
here. Perhaps I can borrow something?”

“Bless your heart, my dear, Lady Dorothy
visited Langley only twice. Her ladyship prefers London to the
wilds of Northumberland. It’s been more than a year since she was
here last. The castle steward has allocated her chamber for Queen
Anne’s use when she arrives.”

“Oh, the queen isn’t traveling with King
James. He is so eager for the Crown of England that he is riding
with all speed. I heard that Queen Anne, her children, and her
ladies won’t be leaving Edinburgh for at least a month.”

“You must have seen him at Alnwick. Whatever
is King James like?”

“Well, he’s no fashion plate.” Douglas
pictured the king in his shabby robes when she’d last been at
Court. “His hair and beard are reddish like the Percy’s, but his
Scottish brogue is so thick, it is difficult for the English to
understand him.”

“Ooh, fancy that!” the woman said laughing.
“Since Queen Anne won’t be coming, I’ll accompany you up to your
Aunt Dorothy’s chamber. If memory serves, I think she did leave
some garments in the wardrobe.”

As they climbed to the top of the tower, the
woman asked, “When do you think your uncle and the king’s party
will be arriving?”

In fact Douglas hadn’t the faintest idea.
“Not until tomorrow at the very earliest, I warrant. I mustn’t take
up any more of your time. My uncle is blessed to have someone like
you at Langley. I shall be sure to mention how helpful you have
been.”

The servant bobbed her a curtsey, visibly
pleased at the compliment.

Douglas glanced about the tower chamber. It
had clearly been furnished for a lady. The first thing her eyes
fell on was a hairbrush sitting atop a tall chest. She immediately
slid open one of the chest’s drawers. When she saw the linen
undergarments she sent up a silent prayer of thanks. As she lifted
out a shift, petticoat, and hose, the scent of roses perfumed the
air. She crossed the room to the wardrobe. A silver mirror had been
mounted on the door and when she saw her reflection she was aghast.
No wonder the servant looked me up and down with dismay.
She
crossed her fingers and opened the wardrobe door.
Oh, I have the
luck of the devil!

She lifted out a blue damask gown and laid it
on the bed. On the floor of the wardrobe she found a pair of
matching slippers. She removed her doublet, then with careful
fingers she lifted the silver chain from around her neck and
unpinned the antique pendant from Greystoke’s shirt. When she took
off the shirt, his male scent stole to her, and sent a spiral of
desire curling through her belly. She forced herself to stop
thinking of him, folded her clothes and put them in the
wardrobe.

Douglas unbraided her hair and brushed it
until it crackled, then she donned the undergarments and crossed
her fingers as she unlaced the gown and stepped into it. The damask
dress was not a perfect fit. There was no farthingale, but the
skirt was very full. It came only to her ankles but as she
tightened the laces on the front of the bodice, she had to take a
deep breath before she could close it completely.
Percy’s wife
must be exceedingly slim.
When she looked in the mirror she saw
that her breasts swelled provocatively above the low-cut neckline.
Well, at least no one will notice my ankles!

When she could drag her eyes from her own
exposed flesh, she noticed that the right side of the bodice had
been embroidered with a silver initial. Her mouth curved with
delight when she saw the letter D.
How appropriate, the D for
Dorothy now becomes a D for Douglas.

She picked up the lovely pendant, and saw the
image of Greystoke in its mirrored depths.
D for Deception!
She heard his voice as clearly as if he were in the room with her.
Douglas slipped the silver chain around her neck and pinned the
jeweled mirror between her breasts. She raised her chin defiantly
and shrugged a pretty shoulder.

~~~

It was barely dusk when Greystoke arrived
home from Carlisle Castle. The anticipation of seeing Douglas
spurred him to cover the four miles to Beaumont in record time. He
had even fed and watered his horse before he left Carlisle so that
when he reached home, he could simply stable his mount and go
straight to the house. He hadn’t felt this way about a woman in
years. The beautiful Firebrand heated his blood and made him feel
alive. He couldn’t wait to see her golden eyes light with pleasure
when he entered the hall.

Greystoke had pictured her before the fire,
her mass of molten hair reflecting its flames. When he saw that the
Great Hall was empty, his heart skipped a beat. Then a smile curved
his mouth.
She’s in the library.

His footsteps quickened and he heard the ring
of his spurs as he entered the book-lined room. He glanced about.
“Douglas?” His heartbeat faltered when he found the chamber empty,
then he heard a noise behind him and turned eagerly to the doorway.
When he saw it was his servant, Ridley, he asked, “Where is
she?”

“The lady has gone, my lord.”

“Gone?” Greystoke held his breath. “Gone
where?”

“I’m afraid I don’t know.”

“When did she leave?” he demanded.

“I have no idea, my lord. I served her
breakfast here in the library, but when I returned with lunch, the
room was empty. It was as if she had disappeared.”

“She didn’t vanish into thin air, man!”
Greystoke felt his anger ignite and he knew he was in danger of
savaging Ridley. With an effort he held his temper. “Thank
you.”

When Ridley withdrew, a foul oath dropped
from his lips. “Goddam the wench!” It was a severe blow to his
pride that Douglas Elliot was not at Beaumont awaiting his return.
The bloody little Firebrand took off the moment my back was
turned.
It not only stung him that he was a poor judge of
character, it was also a cudgel blow to his manhood.

He strode to the window and gazed out with
unseeing eyes, as a feeling of impotence gripped him. He noticed
that the lock was unfastened and realized that this was how she had
made her escape unseen.

The little bitch is laughing at me.

“Put not your trust in a Scot!” It was a
maxim all English Borderers lived by, and that went double for a
warden, or
should
have. He was filled with fury that Douglas
Elliot had made a fool of him.
I laid my heart at her feet, and
she stomped on it.

He turned from the window, walked slowly to
his desk, sat down, and smashed his fist into the polished oak
surface. That was when he saw that the priceless antique pendant
was missing. “The thieving little bitch! She coveted that pendant
from the moment she saw it; damn her avaricious eyes!”

Douglas Elliot had touched Greystoke’s heart,
but now his feelings for her hardened.
She is a thief and she
belongs in prison.
He vowed to track her down.
She ran away,
so I will stalk her as prey.
With cold deliberation he swore he
would take his revenge.

CHAPTER SIX

 

“His Majesty King James has arrived!” the
Langley Castle steward announced to everyone gathered in the Great
Hall.

A collective gasp went around the large
chamber, and people started to scurry about, positioning themselves
advantageously for when King James entered the castle.

Douglas Elliot’s heart began to pound. She
was truly surprised that the king had arrived less than an hour
after she had changed from her leather attire into the elegant
gown. She sent up a prayer of thanks that not only had she chosen
to ride to Langley, but that her timing had been perfect.
Please, please, let my brother Jock be here.

She hurried out to the castle bailey, where
she found an amazing throng of horses, attendants, and
moss-troopers. With her heart in her mouth, Douglas searched among
the riders until she saw her cousin Will Elliot, her brother’s
lieutenant. “Where’s Jock?” she shouted.

BOOK: A Rough Wooing
8.09Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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