Captured by a Laird (14 page)

“I feel rather foolish actually,” Lena admitted, colouring as she recalled her graceless tumble.

“I have sent for our healer,” Sarah explained. “She has aided every woman in this croft with their births. She possesses great knowledge.”

“Thank you,” Lena said simply.

“Is the child of Stref Harris?” Sarah asked outright. “It would be an advantage to you if it is. My husband would be more inclined to favour an alliance with Harris’ lands and Rwenor. United you could eradicate Haigh.”

“I will not use an unborn child to negotiate!” Lena was aghast at the prospect. “If a life does grow within me, it will be mine to raise. Harris and Rwenor have no future.”

“Pride is an admirable thing for those who can afford to have it,” Sarah cautioned. “The rest of us use the advantages we possess to get what we want.”

Lena shook her head. She could not face Harris and his condemnation of her. He had already accused her of being a whore to Haigh and to Green Bow. He would be suspicious in the extreme, of news that she was with child. Lena shuddered at the thought of his wrath. For the first time, she was glad that she lay safe in the walls of Fogert’s keep.

The healer confirmed Lena’s condition. According to her, the child had only three more moons until it made an appearance in the world. Lena’s active lifestyle had kept the normal signs at bay these past few months. Lena thought back to the time that she and Harris were intimate. The times did fit and it had been a good six moons since she had left his keep on the day of their wedding.

Lena reddened at the memory of her trysts with Stref Harris, a blush that did not go unnoticed by the shrewd-eyed Sarah.

“A pleasure that you seem to recall well, was it?” Sarah smiled.

Lena looked at the older woman with wide eyes.

“You can tell me, dear. I have…er…experience with men in those ways. I could tell you stories that would make your pretty hair curl.” Sarah sneered as if enjoying Lena’s discomfort. “Now, I will leave you here to rest. I have an appointment to keep with a footman who does not like to be kept waiting.” She walked to the door, turning to give Lena a sly wink as she disappeared.

Not even a minute after Sarah’s exit, Fogert himself entered the room. He cleared his throat and motioned to the chair. Lena nodded, realising he intended to sit and talk with her. Continuing to make guttural noises with his voice, Fogert sat down and looked at Lena intently.

“I’ll admit that I was unsure if I required an alliance with Rwenor, or if I could merely reach out and pluck it for myself, much like a ripe fruit. Oh, don’t look at me like that; I am just saying what every other laird in the vicinity has been thinking. Your estrangement from Harris has left you in a vulnerable position. Your infamous Green Bow was bested once by Lord Harris, so he no longer holds the terrifying mystique that he once did.”

Lena looked at the man who sat before her. His eyes gleamed in greedy anticipation. He obviously considered himself to have the upper hand and could demand what suited him. What he did not know was that he was in fact attempting to bully the legendary Green Bow, and if there was one thing that Lena could not stand, it was a bully.

“I have a son who resides with my sister in a comfortable dwelling in the lowlands. He has been educated well and is due to return here and assist me in running the vast estates that make up the Fogert estate. I propose that you marry him and raise the Harris bastard as the heir to the Fogert estate.”

“M–marry him!” Lena was appalled. “You would have Harris’ child raised as a Fogert?”

“Let us just say that my son has…well…he has not shown a healthy interest in women as one would expect of a man his age. There was an unfortunate incident here with the son of the blacksmith that caused me to send him to my sister. Marrying you would suit us all. You would have the alliance you seek, and I would have the heir I would never otherwise see.”

Lena looked again at the man who was now slumped in his seat; she saw a tired hue to his skin and desperation in his eyes.

“I will consider it,” she said.

Fogert pulled himself from his chair and turned to exit the room.

“Thank you.”

Lena managed a slight smile, which soon turned to a scowl as the heavy door swung shut and the scrape of a lock reverberated around the room.

Curse these lairds!

As the room fell silent again, Lena took a deep breath to banish her anger before considering her options. She was sure she could escape from the home of Fogert, but what would then follow for her croft? Having already angered two of the surrounding lairds, she could ill afford to make an enemy of the only one who could offer her people sanctuary. It seemed that marriage to Fogert’s son was her only remaining option. Lena’s mind returned, as it did more frequently than she cared to admit, to Stref Harris. The child within her came from their union—a union that had brought a pleasure that Lena had never considered before. She shuddered as her body responded to the memories of his touch. Her already sensitive breasts hardened, blazing the familiar trail to her inner core. Lena sighed as she ran her own hand down the fiery track, imagining the rough hands of Stref caressing her naked form. She writhed as a delightful sensation filled her body, blocking out all thoughts of responsibility and replacing them with wanton desires. Lena found the nub of her pleasure and began to stroke and coax it as she had felt Stref do. She rolled onto her side to create a cradled shape then rocked herself backwards and forwards until waves of gratification racked her body. As the full force of her desire peaked, she cried out one word, “Stref.”

Sated, but overwhelmed with the loneliness of knowing she was not with him, Lena snuggled under the covers and closed her eyes. She willed the burdens of leadership to disappear and leave her with a peace she had scarcely known in her life. Sleep soon sought her out and provided a blessed relief from her troubles.

Chapter Nineteen

Stref Harris paced the floor in front of his fireplace. His hands raked through his hair in frustration.

“What was she thinking?” he asked aloud, although none of the gathered group dared to answer.

Each knew that in the months since the departure of his bride-to-be, Lord Harris had not been an easy man to live with.

“Tell me again.” He paused and fixed Val with an intent stare.

“She journeyed to Fogert several weeks ago with a contingent of our bravest men. She aimed to convince him to form an alliance with Rwenor, thus protecting us from the wrath of Haigh and the threat from Harris lands,” Val added with a nervous cough.

“Go on,” Stref encouraged with a growl.

“Whilst in his home, they shared a meal at which Lena collapsed in agony. The men at once suspected poison, but each was as fit as before. Fogert’s wife, Sarah, pronounced her to be with child,” Val finished quickly.

As soon as he heard the last words, Stref’s stomach lurched as it had on the first telling. Val had arrived just after dawn with an urgent request to speak with the laird. Fortunately, Stref had just returned from a hunting trip and was in residence. He found hunting to be an excellent way to rid his mind of images of Lena. Whilst hunting, his mind was totally focussed on the prey and naught else could penetrate. As soon as the kill had been made however, the sight of the protruding arrow would strike his heart as physically as if the arrow had actually pierced his own.

Now, his entire body ached. His mind raced as he considered how he could retrieve Lena without inciting war with Fogert. Harris men had been fully occupied defending Rwenor. They had lingered on its borders, striving to reduce the number of attacks that Haigh had inflicted. His wrath had been relentless, and Stref had sent many raiding parties back to Haigh with their tails between their legs. Stref had made sure that Lena knew nothing of his support. From time to time, he would let a small party of raiders through, to keep her and her band of warriors satisfied that they were defending their own lands. Without his aid, Rwenor would have been reduced to ashes.

“Damn it! I will ride to her,” Harris bellowed.

Around the room smiles adorned the faces of his men.

“About time, Laird,” beamed Clyde.

“This is madness,” Val protested. “Fogert gave his word that he would return Lena when she was able to ride. I merely sought your aid to protect Rwenor in her absence. You insight war if you ride to Fogert.”

Stref paused to consider the older man’s words. His heart banged in his chest as he thought of Lena locked up in the rooms of Fogert. He knew, as did most of the highlanders, that Fogert’s wife sought the comfort of her burly servants, handpicked for their impressive physiques. That left him wondering where Fogert took his pleasure. More determined than ever to ride a fool’s mission to Fogert, Stref barked a series of orders to his men.

Val shook his head as if resigned to the madness of this impulsive laird. “Bring her back to us then,” he instructed.

“I will send men back with you,” Stref assured the older man. “We have been protecting your borders for the last six moon cycles. Some raiders have slipped by us, but many have been returned to Haigh. They, at least, will not raid again.”

“I figured as much.” Val nodded his gratitude. “Our clan spoke of riders that patrolled their homes. Rwenor thanks you for your assistance.”

“It has been Haigh for years causing the discontent in our lands. I ask you to send for each laird to gather at Rwenor. United, we can defeat his evil hand and restore peace.”

“Consider it done,” Val agreed. “I will dispatch our best riders.”

Parting company the two men shook hands solemnly. Mutual respect shone in both their eyes. Words were not needed as understanding passed between them.

“Let us ride!” Stref’s words were followed by a mighty cheer as his loyal men rode with him.

“Should we expect another wedding?” Clyde asked as they galloped side by side across the open countryside.

“The sooner the better,” grinned the laird.

Chapter Twenty

Dressed in a borrowed gown that had been laid out for her, Lena felt a great sense of discomfort. The neckline was low and her bosom spilled from the lacy garment. The dress had been cut from the very finest cloth, and Lena had never seen anything so resplendent. Trimmed with gold braid, the sleeves hung in points, and the skirt was scooped up to reveal billows of white fabric.

Her presence had been requested by Fogert who awaited her downstairs. It had been several weeks that she had lain upstairs, under the healers orders to remain bedridden. An impatient maid now stood jiggling from one foot to the other as she watched Lena pull the dress every which way in a vain attempt to conceal her revealed flesh.

“My laird awaits you,” the maid eventually ventured. “He is not accustomed to delay.”

“Well, he can become accustomed to it,” Lena bit back, instantly regretting her sharp tone as the maid blushed furiously and lowered her head.

“I am ready,” Lena spoke more gently this time, “and I am sorry if my tardiness results in a scolding for you.”

“I am the only one who can pacify the laird,” the maid admitted, her blush deepening. “He is not often cross with me.”

Lena shook her head as she regarded the pretty young girl.
These lairds seemed to just take whomsoever they wanted
.

At the doorway to a smaller, more intimate room than Lena had so far seen, Fogert approached. His arms were extended in a gesture of welcome, and a smile was fixed in place across his jowly face.

“That will be all, for now.” He leered at the unfortunate maid who scampered off at once. “Lena, I am relieved to find you in better health. I hope that you find the strength later on to venture outside and call off your bird. It is making my people very uncomfortable as it circles our home, crying out for its mistress.”

“I am not the mistress of that creature,” Lena retorted. “It flies free and chooses to ally itself to me. It is what I wish for Rwenor. We do not seek a laird. We seek to ally with the lairds of the Highlands and live in peace.”

Fogert coughed, as if uneasy by the passionate words of his guest. “Come in, there is someone I would like you to meet,” he said hurriedly.

Lena scanned the room quickly, distrustful of events that were beyond her control. Her eyes alighted on the slight form of a youth who looked to be no older than a boy. Faint downy hair grew upon his face, and his effeminate clothes gave him a fragile air. Dressed in his father’s orange plaid, his pasty legs seemed at odds with the warrior’s garb. A lace-trimmed shirt did naught to diminish the overall effect. Perched on his head was a soft felt Glengarry hat, topped with a feather. Its presence was comical, and Lena suppressed a smile as she moved to greet the boy.

“May I present my son, Archon,” Fogert initiated the introduction.

“Archon, this is Lena from the croft of Rwenor.”

A limp wrist was offered to Lena, and she found her hand being lifted up to receive a dry kiss.

“Lena, you look beautiful in that dress. Sarah has always had fine taste in many things,” Fogert spoke close to her ear. “Does Lena not look a vision of loveliness, Archon?”

Archon nodded glumly as if Lena’s appearance held no interest to him.

“I will leave you two to get acquainted,” Fogert said. “Sarah and I will be back presently to join you for some tea.”

An awkward silence ensued as Lena and Archon regarded one another.

“My father has mentioned that he seeks a union between us.” Archon sounded desolate. “I have been called from my aunt’s home where I have been very happy.”

“My croft has been prey to some ruthless acts. I seek an alliance with you father to protect my people. His condition was that I become your wife,” Lena explained. “Has he told you that I am with child?”

At this Archon’s face brightened up. “I have a way with children. They seem to warm to me in a way adults do not. My aunt has four bairns. I help her with them.”

Lena’s kind heart went out to the boy. He was hardly more than a bairn himself. “I see warmth in your eyes,” she said. “Children can often recognise good people quicker than adults.”