The Border Lord and the Lady (25 page)

“But one of the king’s best friends is a Gordon,” Cicely said. “The laird of Loch Brae, who was in England with him for a time when they were boys.”

A shadow crossed Maggie’s pretty face. “If the laird of Loch Brae knew the secret I keep for the king they would no longer be friends,” she said, low. Then, seeing the curiosity in Cicely’s eyes, she held up her hand. “Nay, do not ask, for I will never divulge it. Just trust me when I tell you that you are better off with Ian Douglas than you would be with your Gordon suitor.” She shifted uncomfortably in her chair. She felt a little better now that she was warm and dry. But she still did not believe she would reach Ben Duff in time to birth her child there. “I believe my bairn will be born here,” she told Cicely.

“We can help you and keep you safe,” Cicely promised.

“My lady.” Sine was by her side.

“See that a bedchamber is made ready for Lady Grey. She believes it is possible her child will be born here shortly. Ask Mab what is needed, and see that it is upstairs for us.”

“At once, my lady,” Sine said, and she curtsied.

Orva now came to be with them. “How do you feel now, my lady?” she asked Maggie solicitously. “Your color is coming back.”

“I’m better, but the child will be born here,” Maggie said. “I can go no farther.”

Orva nodded understandingly. Then she turned to her mistress. “I have brought a trunk of garments for you,” she said quietly.

“But we shall not be here long,” Cicely insisted. “Although I will say I am glad of clean clothing, for I have worn this same gown since I was taken from Perth. Mab has done her best to keep it fresh. Oh, Orva, you will like her! She is the cook, and has been my friend since the day I arrived.”

“Well, thank goodness for that, for I have been worried sick about
you.” She paused. “This laird is a bold man, but as long as he has not harmed you I am content. Sir William Douglas, the older gentleman who brought us to Glengorm, is his clan chief. He will see all is made right, my dearie. The king has sent him to bring you back to Perth. The queen has been so fretful in your absence. She is almost ready to deliver her child.”

“I have missed Jo, but we shall shortly be on our way back to Perth. I hope the king will not punish the laird of Glengorm too severely for this. He stole me because, he says, he loves me. It’s really very sweet, Orva. He says he couldn’t court me in Perth because the Gordons wouldn’t let any man but the laird of Fairlea near me.”

“Did he now?” Orva replied. “Well, I can’t fault him too badly if he says he loves you, for he is not mistaken about the Gordons. There were several young men who sought to catch your eye and might have but for the Gordons.” Her tone was disapproving.

“She should not marry Fairlea just to please the king,” Maggie MacLeod broke in.

“Do you know this ruffian who stole my mistress?” Orva asked.

Maggie nodded. “He’s a good man, respected, and his holding is as big as, if not a wee bit bigger than, Fairlea’s. I’ve known him since I wed Grey and came into the borders. Ian Douglas has said he loves Cicely, Orva. That should count for something. You know her father. Which would he choose for her?”

Orva smiled, nodding her head. “He would choose the man who loved his daughter, for he has always loved her. He has always wanted my lady’s happiness.”

At this point they were joined by Sir William Douglas. He bowed to Cicely. “I do not have to ask if you are well, my dear, for I know that Ian would not mistreat you. Ian tells me that you are responsible for this miraculous transformation of Glengorm. I have never seen this hall so clean and welcoming.”

“Thank you,” Cicely said, smiling. “The king has sent you to bring me back to Perth, I assume. When may we leave?”

“Ahh,” Sir William said with a sigh. “While I have indeed been sent for you I am afraid that my kinsman is not quite ready to release you. He tells me that he loves you, and wishes to make you his wife. He says if you are not ready to remain of your own accord then he must continue to keep you here so he may convince you that he is the husband for you, and no other.”

“But you speak for the king!” Cicely said, suddenly angry.

“I do, madam, but I am one man with a few men-at-arms accompanying him. I cannot remove you physically from Glengorm, for I could not defend either you or my actions, I fear. I will, however, return to Perth and tell the king of the laird’s wishes in this matter. You have but to be patient. We will negotiate this situation and bring it to a successful conclusion shortly.” Sir William patted her hand in what he hoped was a comforting gesture. “Glengorm is a pleasant habitat, my dear, and I can see that you are not uncomfortable here.”

“Your kinsman promised that when the king’s representative came, if I was not content to remain here I might depart,” Cicely said furiously. “He has lied to me then!”

“I suspect your sweet company has only made him more determined to win you over, and he has changed his mind. Do not women change their minds?” Sir William asked her with a twinkle in his eye.

Maggie giggled, and even Orva was forced to smile at Sir William’s remark.

Cicely stormed across the hall to where Ian and Andrew Grey were now in conversation. “You said you would let me go!” she fumed at him.

“I thought better of it,” he replied calmly.

“Liar!” Cicely shouted. “If you really loved me you would let me go!”

“To Fairlea?
Never!
” he shouted back. “The Gordons would crush your spirit and squander your dower. I love you, ladyfaire! I will not
allow that to happen. I am the husband for you, and soon you will realize it.”

“I would sooner take the veil than marry you, you loutish border ruffian!” Cicely told him.

“Now who is telling lies?” Ian Douglas chuckled. “Look, here is the priest. Ambrose, the lady would enter a convent. Can you arrange it for her?”

Cicely was standing near the sideboard. Reaching out, she grasped a small silver goblet and hurled it at the laird of Glengorm. “Ohhhh, I hate you!” she raged.

The little vessel whizzed past his head, falling to the floor. Ian Douglas leaped forward and, catching hold of Cicely, turned her over his knee, smacking her bottom several times through her gown. “No, you don’t,” he said. Then, “Were you never taught, ladyfaire, not to hurl objects at people’s heads?” He tipped her back onto her feet.

Cicely stamped her foot at him. “How dare you strike me, you monster!” Then she swung at his head with her small, balled-up fist.

He caught the fist in his big hand, and, yanking her into his arms, the laird of Glengorm kissed Lady Cicely Bowen a hard, long kiss. Then, heedless of their guests, he looked down into her face and murmured against her lips, “I love you, you impossible little termagant.
I love you!
” And he kissed her again slowly, passionately, his mouth moving over hers until he felt the anger seeping from her slender form, and her lips worked on his, kissing him back, and she sighed a sweet sound of contentment.

“Oh, my,” Maggie MacLeod said.

“There is one maiden who will never be a nun,” Father Ambrose said with a grin.

Finally the laird released Cicely. “Now go and see to our guests, ladyfaire,” he told her. “We’ll need to feed and house them all this day.”

Orva had watched the interaction between her mistress and the laird of Glengorm with interest. Ian Douglas wasn’t lying when he
said he loved her mistress. The poor man did, heaven help him. And Cicely, Orva realized even if her mistress didn’t, was falling in love with the big border lord. Her interaction with the Gordon laird of Fairlea was polite and pleasant. There was no fire between Cicely and Andrew Gordon. She hurried over to her bemused mistress’s side, putting an arm about her. “Come along, dearie, and take me to this Mab who has been so kind to you.” She met the laird’s look. “If you would see that my lady’s trunk is brought to her chamber, my lord,” she said.

He nodded his acquiescence, giving Orva just a small smile before she turned and took his ladyfaire from the hall.

“She’s a high-strung mare,” Sir William noted. Then he turned to greet the priest. “What think you, Ambrose Douglas, of a match between this lady and your nephew?”

“It would be a good match for them both,” the priest replied. “He does love her, my lord, and despite what just took place she has been softening towards him. The Glengorm folk like her too. She has brought order to this house again. I can’t recall it ever being this clean, even in my father’s time. Ian and Fergus’s mam was a frail lass. It was all she could do to birth her two sons.”

“Was Fergus involved in this abduction?” Sir William wanted to know. “I do not believe Ian could have carried this out alone, and the shopkeeper did say she was attacked by two men. Of course, she did confess her part in it all. The king has punished her, but gently. He is angrier at Ian for spoiling his plans to see Lady Cicely wed into the Gordon family. He is not certain he trusts them. ’Tis amazing how knowledgeable he is in spite of his many years in English captivity.”

“I imagine all courts have a certain amount of intrigue,” Father Ambrose remarked dryly. “Aye, Fergus went with Ian. And then the two of them rode like the very devil to get her back safely to Glengorm.”

Sir William nodded. “And now I have the task of telling the king
he won’t give her back.” He shook his head. “Is there a chance she will agree to wed him? If you think there is, Ambrose, I will try to prevent the king from sending a troop of men-at-arms to collect the lady and return her to the queen’s household, so he may have his chance with her. From what I saw this afternoon they are well matched. He won’t get entirely around her, as he’s always done with the lasses.”

“Is it not true, cousin,” the priest said, “that that which you fight for and win is more precious than that which is simply given to you?”

Sir William chuckled. “You are on his side, aren’t you, Ambrose?”

“He’s been such a rascal, emulating his grandfather his entire life. But now his heart is engaged, not just his cock,” the priest said. “And she’s a fine young lass, cousin. Why should the Gordons have her and her dower? Are not we Douglases just as good?”

“Some of us, aye,” Sir William replied. “But some of our clansmen are not in the king’s good favor, as you know. Still, Glengorm’s people have always been loyal.”

“We are too small a branch of the family to be bothered with,” the priest remarked. “We haven’t got a great amount of wealth or influence. We’re plain border folk, and we want to be naught else.”

“The weather is not good,” Sir William said. “The rain is icy, and the cold is deepening. I expect an early snow, and certainly that would prevent the lady from traveling in safety and comfort. But I will assure her I will return to the king with the laird’s answer to his request so she does not feel entirely deserted. This matter is aggravating the king, for he has greater problems in the north with the MacDonald of the isles. He doesn’t want to offend the Gordons, but neither does he want the distraction of this problem when he has more important matters that need attending. Of course, he can always find a suitable bride for the laird of Fairlea from among the queen’s ladies. Her distant cousin Elizabeth Williams has just arrived at court at the queen’s request. Her dower, of course, is nothing like Lady Cicely’s, if the gossip is to be believed, but she is blood kin to Queen Joan, pretty, and
most suitable. I believe the Gordons could be placated with such a bride for the laird of Fairlea. I will mention it to the king.”

A hot meal of rabbit stew filled with carrots and leeks was served in round bread trenchers. The was also trout broiled in butter with dill and pepper. Fresh bread and cheese was upon the table, and finally Mab herself brought in a bowl of apple and pear halves stewed with sugar and clove. While Cicely preferred wine, the male guests enjoyed their October ale.

Cicely noticed that Lady Grey ate very little, and only sipped at her wine. “Are you all right?” she inquired solicitously.

Maggie stood up. “Can someone help me to my bed?” she asked, suddenly pale again. She swayed slightly, and her voice was tremulous.

Mab and Orva were immediately at Maggie’s side, helping her from the high board. Cicely excused herself and followed, turning briefly to tell Lord Grey she would come back shortly to tell him what was happening. Then she hurried after the others.

Ascending the stairs was difficult for Maggie. Her belly was great, and she was having difficulty putting one foot before the other. Halfway up the stairs she stopped, gave a gasp, and a stream of water was suddenly flooding the stone steps.

“What has happened?” Cicely cried to Orva and Mab.

“Her waters have broken, my lady,” Mab replied. “The bairn wants to be born.”

“I told you,” Maggie gasped weakly, then struggled with the two women at her side to reach the hallway above.

Finally they attained the landing and, half dragging the woman between them, arrived at the guest chamber prepared for them. Cicely had pushed ahead of them on the steps and, dashing down the passage, flung open the door to the room, relieved to see a fire blazing merrily in the hearth. Mab and Orva quickly and efficiently stripped Maggie of all her clothing but for her chemise. They helped her to lie down upon the bed, which she did with a groan. Orva propped pillows behind her so she was half seated.

“I can do this meself,” Mab said, “but I should far rather have the assistance of the midwife in the village, my lady.” She looked anxiously to Cicely.

“I’ll send for her at once,” Cicely said. “What else is needed now?”

“Hot water, clean clothes, some oil for the baby’s skin, swaddling, and there is a cradle in the attics that should come down,” Mab said. “If Orva will remain with Lady Grey I can organize those things more quickly, and Lord Grey should be informed that his bairn will be born soon.”

“I can do that too,” Cicely said. She walked over to Maggie’s side. “I’ll be back quickly,” she promised. “Are you in pain?”