The Border Lord and the Lady (44 page)

But Kier Douglas had no intention of waiting until June first to marry Cicely. At first light he arose, dressed himself, and went to Mass in the village church, that he might speak with the priest afterwards. “Come up to the hall with me and break your fast,” Kier invited Ambrose Douglas after the Mass was concluded. “We’ll talk along the way.”

The priest looked closely at his companion. “The rumor is that a messenger came from the king yesterday,” he said as they left the church.

Kier nodded. “Aye, James has ordered me to wed Cicely without delay, and according to her the queen’s message promised that her entire dower would be restored.”

“Your da will be pleased,” Ambrose Douglas said.

“You’ve drawn up the contracts, I assume?” Kier asked him.

“Aye,” the priest replied. “When Sir William told me what he wanted I did it. Has Cicely become more reasonable, then?”

“Cicely will do as she is bidden,” Kier Douglas told his companion.

The priest barked his laughter. “Ha! Ha, ha! You are a fool if you believe that, my lord of Glengorm.”

“I bedded her last night,” Kier announced. “She’ll wed me now without any ado.”

“I will not countenance any rape!” the priest said in a hard voice.

“There was no rape, Ambrose. Just gentle persuasion,” Kier assured him. “I am ordered to remain on my lands until she has delivered me a son. There is going to be war in the north, and those doing the king good service will be rewarded for that loyalty. And where will I be? Nay, I want her with child as quickly as possible. I want that son born so I may share in some of the glory.”

“Even if you got her with child last night, it will still be months before a child is born, and it could be another daughter, Kier,” the
priest said. “You had best make peace with your ambitions. You’re a border lord. Nothing more.”

Kier was silent; then he said, “I know you’re right, Ambrose, but I want more. I always have. Perhaps it is the circumstances of my birth. I have a blood tie with this king through my mother, God assoil her good soul.”

“Listen to me, Kier. I do not deny what you are saying, but kings are the most fickle of men, and this Stewart in particular. How much of his own family’s blood has he spilled since his return? Like me, you’re bastard-born, but you’ve been fortunate in life. Your father’s wife loved and raised you as if you were her own natural bairn. Your father has loved you, and has given you a lordship you would not otherwise have had were it not for the death of your cousin Ian, and Sir William’s intercession with this king. You are being given an heiress wife who has already proved fertile. With God’s blessing she will give you bairns of your own blood. Be satisfied, man. Do not tempt fortune,” the priest warned the new laird. “What you have now is more than most men ever get.”

The new laird of Glengorm sighed. “I suppose there is time for my ambition. It isn’t as if this will be the only battle King James fights,” he reasoned.

Ambrose Douglas smiled. “Aye, your ambition can wait. Now you must come to some kind of an accommodation with Cicely. She is a proud woman, if not just a little spoiled. If you cannot love her then you must at least try to become friends with her.”

“What was her father thinking that he made her such a ridiculous promise?” Kier wondered aloud. “Women don’t choose their husbands.”

“Most don’t, ’tis true,” the priest agreed. “Men are wiser and have clearer heads when it comes to picking a husband for their daughters. But this Earl of Leighton was letting his daughter go off to an unknown land. He was not a man of the English court, and did not
know James Stewart. He trusted his daughter to choose her husband before he would trust a stranger to do it, since he could not.”

“I wonder if he would have approved of Ian, or of me,” Kier said.

The priest laughed. “You just need Cicely to approve of you, my son. And if I might make a suggestion, I would propose you not use so heavy a hand with the lady. Women have subtle ways of taking their revenge, and when they do you will find it is not to your liking.” He chuckled darkly.

They reached the house and, entering the hall, found Cicely there directing the servants to bring the morning meal. Seeing the priest she ran to him. “Father Ambrose! Father Ambrose! You must convince the new laird that if we are to wed I need time first to mourn my beloved Ian. He is dead but six months. My husband is entitled to more respect than his cousin is willing to give him. Ian’s love for me was more deserving. My lord Kier says we must marry on the first day of June.” And Cicely sobbed a small sob, turning her head from them in feigned distress.

Both the priest and the laird knew she was lying. Ambrose Douglas almost laughed aloud. Had he not just warned Kier? The servants in the hall were pretending not to listen, but they were. And they would gossip of what happened here this day. If the new lord of Glengorm did not agree, or at least compromise, it would take years for him to regain the respect of the village folk. If indeed he ever could.

But Kier was not thinking about that.
“Madam!”
he thundered at her.

Cicely pretended to cringe away from him, giving a little cry of distress as her hand flew to her mouth.

Again the priest was forced to restrain his laughter. He was going to have to do something quickly, before Sir William’s normally prudent son did something foolish. “My children,” he said in his quiet yet strong voice. “Let us break our fast first, and then we will discuss this matter, for it is important not only to you, but to all of Glengorm.
Come, come to the table.” He led them to the high board. “My child,” he said to Cicely as he drew out her chair for her, “we missed you at the Mass this morning.”

“Forgive me, good Father, but before I can set foot in our wee church again I must make my confession to you,” Cicely said softly, but quite distinctly.

“You vixen,” Kier hissed at her. His blue eyes were hard.

“My lord, do not shame me publicly,” Cicely murmured, “lest I be forced to stronger measures.” She gave him a wicked little smile.

“Ahh, ham!” Father Ambrose said enthusiastically as the dishes were placed upon the table. “I always enjoy ham.” He dug his spoon into his bread trencher. “Umm, Mab has flavored the oat stirabout with spices and honey.”

“ ’Twas Ian’s favorite,” Cicely said sweetly.

Kier glowered darkly.

“Give over, my daughter,” the priest said, low. “You have won this battle.”

“But not the war,”
Kier Douglas snarled.

They ate the hot oats, the ham, and the hard-boiled eggs, along with a crusty loaf of newly baked bread with butter and a berry jam. Their cups were filled with cider. The silence filling the hall now was almost ominous. When they had finished eating Cicely arose, preparing to depart the hall.

“I must see to Johanna,” she said.

“Not quite yet, my daughter,” Father Ambrose replied in a voice that even Cicely realized was not to be challenged. He stood. “Come, let the three of us sit by the hearth and discuss what needs discussing so there may be no more confusion about this matter.”

They followed him from the high board and settled themselves as he had suggested near the fireplace. Cicely was looking particularly pretty this morning in a simple gown of spring green, her auburn hair plaited neatly into a single braid. She spread her skirts about her and
looked to the priest. Kier, however, did not sit. He stood, looking fierce and determined.

“Now, my lord,” the priest addressed the new laird, “my lady, the widow of Glengorm, has made a salient point in this matter. Your cousin, the late laird, may God and his sainted Mother bless him, was both loved and esteemed by his folk. To rush his widow, but a few months after childbirth, into a marriage with you lacks the respect that needs to be shown to Ian Douglas’s memory, no matter what the king and Sir William want.”

Cicely smiled sweetly at Kier, who glowered back.

“Your father,” the priest continued, “can give you Glengorm. King James can approve his decision. But only you can earn the good regard of your folk, Kier. And in times to come you will need that loyalty not once, but often.” Now Ambrose Douglas turned to Cicely. “As for you, my daughter, the marriage contract is drawn and ready for your signatures. You
will
marry this man three days after the first anniversary of Ian’s death in October. You will not seek to delay your marriage in any way. I don’t care if the Grahames are banging on the door to the hall. You will wed Kier Douglas on the eighteenth of October, and we will be done with it! Now, I shall expect you at the church today to make your confession to me.” The priest stood and walked from the hall.

“Well, madam, you have gotten your way and had your revenge on me, haven’t you?” Kier said darkly.

“And you have gotten your way, my lord, haven’t you?” Cicely countered, not denying his accusation of revenge. That was what it had been.

“Do not think this delay will keep me from your bed,” he told her. “I will have you with child by our wedding day.”

“If you persist in treating me roughly, my lord, I will fight you,” Cicely told him plainly. “Are you so lustful that you cannot deny yourself for a few more months?”

Stepping before her chair, he yanked Cicely up, pulling her against him, a hard arm about her waist. He tipped her face up and kissed her not cruelly, but softly, seductively. “Had
I
been in Eden we should still be there,” he boasted. “My willpower is strong.” The hand on her face slid down into the neckline of her gown to cup a breast. His thumb encircled the soft nipple, which hardened almost instantly. “Eve was the weak one, madam,” he taunted her. His lips brushed hers again.

Dizzy though she was, Cicely managed to kick him in the shins. “I am not Eve!” she said furiously. “If men are so strong, why did not God make them carry and bear the babies, my lord? I will obey you all: the king, Sir William, the Church. I will wed you in October, and I will be a good wife to you. But until then, my lord, it is war between us. Now release me! I must attend to my daughter.”

He let her go, but as she stamped away, he said, “What is this need you seem to have to constantly score me, madam? You have surely bruised my shin in your temper, my back is raw with your scratches, and I have the marks of your teeth in my shoulder yet.” But he was smiling, although she did not see it. He was going to get strong sons on this fiery woman, he decided.

Cicely blushed at the words he flung after her, but she never turned.
Blessed Mother!
Were Artair and Tam grinning? Were Effie and Sine, their two heads together, giggling? Of course they had overheard, and soon it would be all about the kitchen, and next the village. Then Cicely laughed softly to herself, seeing the humor in the situation. The gossip her servants told would, oddly enough, comfort their clanfolk. The new laird was settling in. He would wed the lady in the autumn, and there would be sons for Glengorm sooner than later.

Cicely was relieved, however, when her female courses came upon her a week later. She was not ready to be with child quite yet. The summer came. The hillsides about Glengorm were green and dotted with the laird’s sheep and cattle. The Grahames were nowhere in evidence. The rumor was that that Ian’s unforgiving assault upon them had decimated their ranks to the point of weakness. They could not
raid without allies, and right now the other English border families considered the Grahames unlucky.

Each day but for the Sabbath, Kier trained the men-at-arms in the art of warfare. Eventually they would be called upon to accompany the king into the Highlands. But for now the king satisfied himself with strengthening his hold on the lower half of Scotland. Most of the Highland chieftains had not sworn their fealty to James Stewart yet. If they did not within another year, James would have to call for a gathering of the clans in Inverness to accomplish that goal. Kier was relieved. No matter what Father Ambrose said, Kier needed to be with the king when he went north. Every border lord with an eye to his family’s future would want to go—
would
go. A man’s loyalty was judged by things like that. And with luck, by next summer he would have a son.

Cicely both intrigued and fascinated him. He had never known such a strong and independent woman. Yet she could hardly be called forward or bold. Still, her dedication to her duty to Glengorm was to be commended. When he went to war, Kier thought to himself, he would have no difficulty leaving Glengorm in her capable hands. He was fortunate in this wife he was soon to take.

But Cicely also tempted him. After boasting so loudly about his self-control, he was finding it difficult to be near her. He had not since that fatal night entered her bed, and she was quick to tell him shortly afterwards that she was not with child. He knew how very passionate she could be. Yet their celibacy did not seem to disturb her in the least. Had he not known her so well now, he would have wondered if she was sneaking off to meet with a lover.

Cicely would have laughed if she had been aware of his thoughts. She didn’t dare get too near Kier Douglas, for she truly lusted after him. She wasn’t in love with him. She might never be in love with him, but she wanted very much to be in his arms again. Ian had been tender, and he had certainly shown her a modicum of passion. But he had loved her so desperately that he had not allowed his emotions
to overcome him but once or twice. And then his passion had never been as wild and fierce as Kier’s had been that night that they had shared.

And Cicely had been amazed by the passions he had unleashed in her. He had plumbed depths she had not known existed. He had touched her heart with fire and scorched her soul with the heat of her desire. She hadn’t realized that one could experience such emotions, and yet have no love for one’s lover. Cicely was realizing that there was a lot she didn’t know. She might have put him out of his misery but that he suddenly took to taunting her. But, realizing that his need was boiling as hotly as her own, she vowed to herself not to give in to his teasing.