The Border Lord's Bride (14 page)

The nun laughed. "We are fairly cloistered, Ellen. I was allowed to come because the king requested it and my mother superior considered it an emergency. Perhaps she will let me come when you are having a bairn."

"A bairn? Oh, aye," Ellen said, and she found herself blushing again. She would have to give the laird children, of course, but that would require some degree of intimacy, and they hadn‘t even kissed. Remembering Balgair‘s kiss, she wasn‘t certain she would even like being kissed again.

And there was more to creating a child than just kissing.

"We‘ll reach St. Mary‘s at the end of our ride today," Maggie said. "You‘re staying in our guesthouse tonight," the nun informed Ellen.

"That will be nice," Ellen replied absently. Would he bed her in a nunnery? There was something almost wicked about such a thing, Ellen thought with a shiver.

Maggie‘s convent was small and neat. They were greeted by the mother superior, and said their good-byes to the laird‘s sister. Maggie‘s demeanor the moment she entered the cloistered convent became silent and subdued.

"Your sister will spend the next few months in solitude and prayer," the mother superior said in stern tones. "She must cleanse her spirit of the sin and filth of the outside world in which she has been forced to dwell these many months."

"She has spent most of her time at Duffdour," the laird said quietly, "and I am most grateful you permitted her to come and chaperone my wife."

"I was given to understand it was the king‘s ward who needed a chaperone," the mother superior said.

The laird explained briefly.

"Ah," the mother superior said, her lean face showing a bit of emotion. "I understand

completely. How good of the king to give her a husband, considering that she has lost

everything. Even the poorest girl entering my convent brings a dower."

"The king wheedled a dower for her from the MacDonald in exchange for her lands," the laird explained.

"Aha! Ha! Ha!" The nun barked sharp laughter, surprising him. "A clever laddie is our Jamie Stewart," she remarked. She turned to Ellen. "You are a fortunate woman, my lady," she said.

"Aye, I believe I am," Ellen agreed.

"Your wife and her servant may spend the night within our convent walls, my lord," the mother superior said. "You and your men, however, must shelter outside the walls. It is rare that we allow any man but priests within. A hot meal will be brought to you tonight, and in the morning after the Mass."

"We‘ll leave before Prime," the laird said. "The sun will be up, and with luck we will reach Duffdour before it sets."

The nun nodded. "The English seem quiet for now," she told him. Then she picked up a small bell upon the table and rang it. When a young nun hurried to answer it the mother superior said,

"Escort the lady and her serving woman who waits outside to our guesthouse, Sister Mary Michael. The laird, I am certain, can find his own way back through our gates."

"I will see you on the morrow," Duncan said softly to Ellen as he walked with her from the mother superior‘s privy chamber. "This is hardly a place to spend a wedding night, now, is it?"

His eyes twinkled at her, and he gave her a smile.

"I had honestly not thought about it," Ellen said softly.

He paused, and then he said, "We will have time to know each other better in the coming weeks, Ellen. You need not fear me." Then, taking her hand, he kissed it and left her, to find his way back to his own men outside the convent walls.

Ellen sighed. She had spent her entire life preparing for marriage with one man, only to find herself married to another. Despite the few months she had spent at Duffdour, her new husband was still a stranger to her. She knew everything a good chatelaine should know of housewifery, but she really knew little of men. Even her time at court had not really prepared her for the other side of marriage. Margaret Stewart had not encouraged the young women in her charge to flirt and play at love, although most of them certainly did. But Ellen had been betrothed and, faithful to Donald MacNab, she had avoided any situation that might have compromised her reputation or brought embarrassment upon her family or the MacNabs.

And now she was married to an Armstrong and not a MacNab. She would live in the borders and not the Highlands. She knew her first duty was to give her husband heirs. And she knew what was involved in gaining those bairns. The manroot injected its seed into the woman‘s womb. The seed took, and the child grew until it was time for it to be birthed. It seemed a cold process, Ellen thought, and yet she remembered the other girls in Margaret Stewart‘s household returning from trysts with their sweethearts flushed, starry-eyed, and dreamy. There had to be something more, but Ellen couldn‘t imagine what it was. She supposed that Duncan would tell her. He really was a very nice man.

Sister Mary Michael led them to a small stone house by the gates. "You will find the makings of a fire inside," she said quietly. "Your meal will be brought shortly." Then she hurried off.

"They dinna speak a great deal, these nuns," Peigi noted.

"The order is a strict one, Maggie said," Ellen told her servant as they entered the little house. It was but one room with a large hearth. Ellen added some wood to the tiny fire that had obviously just been recently begun. The flames sprang up, and gradually the damp, chilly room began to warm.

"Here are the pallets," Peigi said, opening a pair of doors set in the stone wall by the fireplace.

She pulled the pallets out and shook them hard several times. "No bedbugs," she noted, pleased, and laid them on the floor before the hearth. "It won‘t be the most comfortable bed we‘ve ever slept upon, my lady, but ‘twill nae be the worst."

The room was very spare in its furnishings. There was no charm to it at all. There was a single table and two stools. A broom stood in the corner. A knock sounded upon the door. Another nun entered carrying a tray, which she set upon the table. She nodded to them, then silently glided out. Ellen and Peigi went to the table and looked at the meal that they had been sent. There were two trenchers filled with a steaming-hot vegetable pottage, a thin wedge of cheese, and to their surprise a small round cottage loaf. There was also a carafe of watered wine and a single wooden goblet.

"I suspect the bread and cheese are for the morning," Ellen said. "My lord told Mother Mary Andrew that we would depart at first light."

"We‘ll hae to keep it safe from the mice and rats, then," Peigi said in practical tones. She walked across the room and opened up the cabinet that had held the pallets. Reaching in, she felt around the enclosure for any opening that would allow a rodent through. She searched carefully, but she could find none. "In here," she said, beckoning to Ellen to bring the loaf and the cheese. "Wrap the cheese in the napkin, my lady. It will prevent it from getting hard overnight."

The bread and the cheese stored, the two women sat down to eat the vegetable stew that had been ladled into the stale bread trenchers. It was hot, well flavored, and surprisingly tasty. They scraped their trenchers dry, and then sat by the fire slowly eating them until not a crumb remained.

"They didn‘t stint us," Ellen remarked, sipping wine from the cup, and then handing it to Peigi to drink.

Their meal over, the two women used the chamber pot, then lay down in their clothes to sleep, pulling two thin blankets over themselves. Neither of them slept well, and consequently arose just as the first light began to tug at the edge of the darkness in the sky. They arose. There was no water for bathing, so they straightened their garments and their hair, ate their bread and cheese, and exited the guesthouse as the skies above them lightened to gray. Their horses had already been brought from the convent stables and were tied waiting by the gate. Ellen pressed a copper coin into the hand of the porteress, and thanked her as, with a smile, the nun opened the gates to allow the two women out. The laird and his men were waiting and, seeing the two women, they mounted up. The clansman driving the cart pulled Peigi up to her seat, and they were off for Duffdour.

The day was long because it was almost summer, and the light lasted until late, time enough to reach Duffdour. The laird had sent a rider on ahead to alert the keep to their arrival. The baggage cart was at least an hour behind them, but riders were sent to escort it safely to Duffdour in the shimmering twilight.

Sim, the steward, came forward, a surprised look upon his weathered face when he saw Ellen MacArthur. "Welcome home, my lord. Welcome back, Mistress Ellen."

"Mistress Ellen is now your lady, Sim. We were married at Sterling Castle by the king‘s own chaplain two days ago," Duncan Armstrong said.

"My lord!" Sim smiled broadly. "I offer my felicitations to you and to your lady. Duffdour has not had a mistress since your mother‘s time, for your brother was never of a mind to wed. I know that everyone will be happy to learn this news."

"You are free to tell them, Sim," the laird said. "Is there a hot meal ready?"

"There is, my lord. It awaits you in the hall," the steward answered.

"Peigi and the cart are an hour behind us. Have the watch be on the lookout for them. And see that the woman is fed. She‘s not young, and will be tired after our trip." He turned to Ellen and swept her up in his arms. "Welcome home, madam," he said as he carried her over the threshold of the keep and into the hall.

Startled at first, she then laughed. "Why, my lord, you are a man of tradition, I see," she said as he put her back on her feet. She looked about her. "It is good to be back, Duncan. I know I can be happy here. I hope I can make you happy."

He smiled down at her, and then, tipping her chin up, he brushed his lips across hers. "I know there is much we have to learn about each other, and I am a patient man, Ellen. You have said you can be happy here, and I want you to be. I was not expecting to return home with a wife, but I must tell you that while our marriage was unexpected, I am not unhappy to find you by my side, lassie."

She was briefly breathless with the gentle kiss, and he saw the surprise in her eyes when his mouth had taken hers.

"Have you never been kissed before, Ellen?" he asked her. Her sweet mouth had possessed an untried quality.

"Only once," Ellen admitted. "When Balgair attempted his rape he mashed his mouth on mine. I found it disgusting, for his breath was foul and I thought him rough. But your kiss was gentle, my lord. I liked it."

He smiled a slow smile at her, and she saw how his eyes crinkled at the edges when he did so. "I would like to spend more time kissing you," he told her.

"Will we share a bed?" she suddenly asked him candidly.

"Of course, you are my wife," he told her. "Did you think otherwise?"

"I know some ladies have a bedchamber, and their husbands have a bedchamber," Ellen

explained. "That is what I was told by the princess, and the girls in her household have often discussed such things."

"Duffdour is a keep, not a castle," the laird said with a chuckle. "We must share a bedchamber, lassie."

"I see," she said in somber tones. "Tonight?"

"Aye, tonight, and all the nights of our life together," he responded.

"Oh." Her pretty face wore a look of consternation.

"We need not consummate our union until we have gotten to know each other better," Duncan said, "but you might as well get used to sharing a bed with me, for you will be doing it for a long time, I hope. Ahh, I see the food being brought in. Come on, lassie, and let us have our meal."

He took her hand, led her to the high board, and seated her in the seat traditionally belonging to the lady of the house.

Ellen looked out over the hall. Oh, she had sat at this high board before, but then she considered herself a guest, and Maggie had sat where she was sitting now. This was her home now. This was her hall. Her fire that burned brightly. The loom sat by the hearth. Her loom with the half-finished tapestry she had left behind when they had gone to Sterling. She would spend the rainy days and the evenings finishing it. Absently she helped herself to the dishes presented to her.

There was rabbit stew with a rich brown gravy, carrots, and tiny onions. There was trout sautéed in butter and white wine and sliced on a bed of watercress. There was a small joint of venison, the last of the autumn hunt. It had been well braised, and sat on a platter surrounded by roasted onions. Fresh bread, sweet butter, and a quarter round of hard yellow cheese was set upon the board. Red wine filled their goblets.

"The cook is to be commended," Ellen said as she ate.

"She‘ll be pleased to know you approve," Duncan replied. "She‘s yours to command now, lassie.

Frankly I prefer simple meals."

"I shall remember that," Ellen told him. "Tell me, how far away do your brothers live? Will I get to meet them soon?"

"Cleit is a good day‘s ride from Duffdour, but aye, you‘ll meet Conal and Murdoc soon enough.

I‘ll send a messenger tomorrow to Cleit to tell them I have a wife. My sister-in-law will come with all haste to meet you." He chuckled. "Adair has been used to being the only lady in the family for some years now. She will want to know everything about you, and where you have come from, and that you will be a good wife to me. She‘s English born and bred, but I‘ll leave it to her to tell you her tale."

"Is she beautiful?" Ellen wanted to know.

He grinned at her. "Aye, she is, but very different from you. She is tall, with black hair and violet eyes. She suits my brother well. You, however, suit me well. I have a fondness for red hair and little lasses," he told her.

"You are much taller than I am," she agreed.

"But we will fit together nicely, lassie. Of that you may be certain," Duncan said softly, and, taking up her hand, he kissed it first on the back, and then on the palm.

A shiver ran down Ellen‘s spine. Her gray-blue eyes widened with surprise, and he smiled into those eyes, rendering her weak. She could not have risen from the board even if she had wanted to stand up.

"Amazing," he said, low. "A year and a half in the royal Stewart‘s household, and you are still as innocent as a young doe." His hand now caressed her face with delicate fingers that ran down her nose and over her lips and up her jawline.