The Border Lord and the Lady (32 page)

“I wish I had been as fortunate as Maggie,” the queen said. “Margaret is a dear little baby, but I would rather have had a lad first. I’ve another in my belly already.”

“I am not yet with child,” Cicely said, “but ’tis not from lack of trying.” She giggled mischievously.

The queen laughed. “It would seem we are both wed to passionate men,” she said. “I am glad you came, Ce-ce. Will you remain long?”

“As soon as the king approves Ian’s patent of ownership and turns
over my dower portion from my father, we must return to Glengorm,” Cicely told her.

The young queen nodded. “I understand,” she said, “but it may not be as quickly as you would want it. Jamie has a group of justices from the courts going over each patent with a fine-toothed comb. There are those that have not stood up to scrutiny.”

“The patent for Glengorm was given to Ian’s ancestors by King Robert the Bruce,” Cicely told her friend. “I have seen the parchment. It is very old. Ian says that the Douglas who inhabited Glengorm in those days was one of the Bruce’s few supporters. Bruce had met with the Red Comyn at Dumfries in the Greyfriars church there. He hoped to gain his support, reconcile their differences. But they argued, and the Bruce killed the Red Comyn. Before the English king could get to the pope, the Bruce made for Scone, and was crowned that Palm Sunday in 1306.

“The Stone of Destiny was missing, as was the crown, Ian says, so he sat on a hastily constructed throne and was crowned with a plain gold circlet. It took three years before Bruce could actually hold a parliament at St. Andrews, where the clergy and the nobility finally swore him fealty. And Ian’s ancestor, Walter Douglas, loyally remained by that king’s side. In 1310 the Bruce rewarded that Douglas and his descendants with the lands at Glengorm in perpetuity,” Cicely concluded.

“What a wonderful tale!” the queen said, clapping her hands in delight.

“It is, isn’t it?” Cicely responded. “But the family had existed on those lands before then,” she explained.

There was a light scratching on the door. The queen looked annoyed, but she said, “Come in,” and the door opened to reveal old Bess.

“I apologize, my dearie,” she said to the queen, “but a man-at-arms has come to fetch Lady Cicely. The king is calling for her man, and would see her too.”

Cicely arose from the stool where she had been sitting. Bending, she kissed her friend upon her rosy cheek. “I will come and see you before I go,” she said, and, hurrying from the room, found her escort waiting for her outside the door to the queen’s chambers. She followed him quickly as he led her back to the chamber where her husband and Ben Duff were waiting.

“They’ve taken Andrew’s patent to examine,” Ian told her.

“I had pledged my fealty to the king when we were last here at court,” Ben Duff said. “I promised to return with my patent so it might be approved. The king granted me time, although he said that even if my title was not quite perfect he would approve it in return for a small service Maggie had done for him. Maggie said it was because she had been kind to the queen when the others who hurried to gain places in her household had not.”

“Aye,” Cicely said, not knowing why she was confirming Maggie MacLeod’s story for her husband, but she somehow felt she should. “There were those who were rude to the queen, myself, and the lass who was to wed the Gordon of Loch Brae. Jo would not be intimidated, and Maggie stood by our side. Once that had happened the others grew meek.” She smiled at the laird of Ben Duff. “Maggie is a good woman, and has become my good friend, my lord.”

The king’s page entered the room, saying, “The laird of Glengorm and his lady are to come with me.”

“I’ll wait,” Ben Duff said.

Cicely and Ian followed the boy, surprised to be led to the king’s privy chamber. The small paneled room with its little hearth and lead-paned window was cozy, and Cicely felt less intimidated now; the king would be kind to them. But when she saw his face as she entered the room her heart plummeted in her chest. She curtsied low as Ian bowed.

“You have brought your patent, my lord?” the king said. He gave them no greeting at all, which indicated to Cicely, who knew him well, his displeasure.

“I have, my liege,” Ian Douglas responded, unaware.

“Give it to my page,” the king directed the laird. “He will take it to the justices, and it will be reviewed in due course.”

“The parchment is fragile, my liege,” the laird said, but he handed the roll to the young boy, who, to his credit, took it carefully and hurried off.

“Consider yourself fortunate, my lord, that I do not have you thrown into the gaol. You abducted an innocent girl and forced her to your will. Because my queen loves Lady Cicely Bowen I will show you mercy.”

“Thank you, my lord!” Cicely quickly said. “But would you allow my husband to explain his actions? When you learn them you will understand.”

“Will I?” the king said coldly.

“Oh, you will!” Cicely assured him, causing a small smile to touch the king’s lips.

“Very well, madam, I will hear what your husband has to say,” the king replied.

“I fell in love with her when I first set eyes on her,” Ian began.

“And that would be when?” James Stewart demanded to know.

“That day when I stopped your train to pledge you my loyalty, my liege,” the laird of Glengorm said. “But when I came to court I could not get near her for the Gordons. If my ladyfaire was to know me, to love me, I had no choice but to carry her off.”

“I will accept that you were attracted to her when you saw her that day,” the king answered. “But once you got to Perth you certainly heard the rumors of her large dower. I know Glengorm is not a rich holding, my lord. Perhaps you sought a wealthy bride, and carried her off for no other reason than her dower.”

“My lord, I would have taken Cicely in her chemise and with nothing more!” Ian Douglas declared passionately. “I love her!”

The king’s amber eyes narrowed as he looked at the laird. Then he said, “I hope that is so, my lord. When Orva left to join her mistress
at Glengorm she took with her all of your wife’s personal possessions. ’Tis all Cicely has now. There is nothing more.”

“That is not so!” Cicely burst out. “My father placed a large sum of gold in your keeping, my liege. What has happened to my dower?”

“I have taken it, madam, in forfeit,” the king said in a hard voice. “Do you know how insulted the Gordons were by your behavior? I had to placate them by paying them a mulct. Did you think it would come from me? And then I had to convince that fool Fairlea that taking my wife’s kinswoman for his bride was far better than having you for a wife. Our children would be blood kin. But Beth’s dower was small. I had to supplement it, and so I did. The Gordons never knew how much you actually possessed, and so by adding some of your wealth to Beth’s dower I was able to placate them quite nicely.”

“You gave Huntley and his kin
all
of my dower?” Cicely demanded angrily.

“Nay, not all of it,” the king told her. “Some remains, madam.”

“Then I want what is left,” she replied. “How can you do this to me, my liege? I did nothing wrong! I was abducted. I did not go willingly. I am not to blame that all your plans to have me marry Fairlea, and spy upon the Gordons went awry.”

“I never asked you to spy, madam,” the king said in an icy voice.

“Nay, not in so many words, my liege, but am I a fool that I could not read between the lines? You are ruthless, James Stewart, but I have done you no real harm. I want my dower, at least what is left of it. Why do you blame me for what has happened? And in the end has it not all worked out for the better?”

“I might have forgiven you, Ce-ce,” the king said, “had not Sir William Douglas come to me with his clever plan for his kinsman to gain you and your wealth while the queen’s cousin would be given to the Gordons instead. Am I a fool that I could not see he meant to have his kinsman profit by his lawlessness? The law
must
be upheld!”

“My liege.” Ian Douglas spoke. “I did not take Cicely for her wealth. I took her because I loved her. It makes no difference to me
that she no longer has her dower. I still love her. I will love her past death. Knowing how I felt, Sir William sought but to aid you in what he knew would be a difficult situation. In the larger scheme of things neither Cicely nor I is important or should be considered. You have problems in the north that need your attention far more.” Suddenly Ian Douglas knelt before the king. “I humbly request that you see me confirmed in my lands, my liege. ’Tis all I seek. Nothing more.”

James Stewart actually looked uncomfortable. “Get up, man!” he said. He believed this border lord, and honest men were few, he knew. “The justices will look at your patent, then see what other sources may be used to confirm it. You will be notified. For now, Glengorm is yours. Take your wife. Go home.” He waved them away.

“I want my dower!” Cicely said angrily.

“Come, ladyfaire, it matters not to me,” Ian Douglas said.

“But it does matter to me,” Cicely retorted. “Without my dower I am valueless.” She turned to the king. “Do not do this to me, my liege. Do not render me valueless, I beg of you!” Tears sprang to her eyes, and she swallowed hard to prevent a sob from escaping her throat. The king couldn’t do this to her.
He couldn’t!

“Farewell, madam,” James Stewart said coldly.

She wanted to remain, to scream, to protest, but her husband drew her away. “Cicely, I love you. The dower matters not.”

“But it does, Ian,” she said as he pulled her from the king’s little privy chamber. She stopped in the narrow corridor outside as the door behind them closed firmly. The tears she had valiantly tried to stop now began to pour down her face as she looked up at him. “A woman is judged by what she brings to her husband, to the marriage, be it gold, or land, or powerful kin. Without my dower I have brought you nothing, and am not worthy to be your wife. I can be naught but your housekeeper, your whore. For without my dower I am nothing more than that.”

“That is ridiculous!” he almost shouted.

“You don’t understand, do you? Men seldom do,” Cicely said, her
face wet with her tears. “You are the laird of Glengorm. You have lands. A house. A village full of people. The wife you take should bring something to you other than her body. Any woman can offer her body. But now I have nothing for you. Go and find Ben Duff,” she told him. “I promised Jo I would come and bid her farewell before I left. I do not break my promises.” And she hurried off to return to the queen’s apartments.

Ian Douglas stood, shocked by what she had said to him. Did his love mean so little to her that it was not enough? Oh, he was disappointed he would not so easily get the flock of black-faced sheep he wanted, but eventually he would. And Cicely would surely forget this nonsense once they got home. He needed to get her with child. A child would calm her, and she would think more clearly. He found his way back to where Ben Duff waited, and told him what had happened.

Ben Duff sympathized, but he also understood Ian’s point of view. “She has jewelry, and brought plate and linens to the marriage,” he said. “It’s not what you expected, but it will do because you love her. My Maggie brought me little too, because we ran away to wed, and they don’t approve of me, for I’m a borderer. Those Highlanders think very highly of themselves”—he chuckled—“and my Maggie is a proud lass too.”

Cicely had carefully marked the route in her mind when the man-at-arms had come for her. She now retraced it, entering the queen’s apartments and going to old Bess. “We must leave now,” she said, “and I would bid Jo a proper farewell.”

“Of course, dearie. ’Tis a pity you cannot remain longer.” Then, looking closely at Cicely with her sharp eyes, she said, “What is the matter, my lady? What has happened? Do not tell me ’tis nothing, for I can see otherwise.” And, realizing that Cicely was about to cry, she hurried her into the queen’s privy chamber. “Something has happened to distress Lady Cicely,” she said to the queen. This time she did not withdraw from the room, nor did the queen ask her to.

Unable to hold back her tears now, Cicely flung herself down next to the queen, weeping bitterly. “Oh, Jo! You have to help me!”

“What has happened?” the queen asked her friend. She had never in all the years they had known each other seen Ce-ce like this. Reaching out, she stroked Cicely’s auburn head.

“The king! He has taken my dower, and will not give it to Ian!” She sobbed afresh, looking up at the queen with a woebegone face.

“He has taken your dower?” The queen looked genuinely puzzled. “What can you mean, Ce-ce? How could he take your dower?”

“He used some of it to pay off the Gordons, for they claimed they had been injured by what happened. He supplemented your cousin Beth’s own dower with mine so Fairlea would take her. And now he will not restore what remains to me!” Cicely wailed. “Without my dower I am worthless, Jo! You understand that, but Ian does not. He says it doesn’t matter to him, but it matters to me!”

The queen was stunned by her friend’s revelation. She knew Jamie could be hard, for she had seen incidences of it, but he was king of a hard land and often had no other choice if he were to uphold the law, keep the peace. And he could be tightfisted, because his own resources were not unlimited. But taking Cicely’s dower was unconscionable.

This was her best friend since their shared childhood, two little girls who had been fostered out by their families so that those families could widen their sphere of influence with England’s king. They had shared a bed in Joan of Navarre’s household, and again when they were sent together to Queen Katherine. They had shared their girlish dreams and hopes, kept each other’s secrets, giggling together in the dark of night. What her husband had done was unfair and it was cruel, the queen thought. Cicely did not deserve to be treated so unkindly. She had done nothing to merit it.