The Border Lord's Bride (17 page)

"Where did you learn all this?" Duncan was curious.

"Hercules Hepburn comes now and again to hunt with Conal," Adair said.

"And you know my wife is most interested in politics," the laird of Cleit observed. "It is her upbringing, I fear. I can‘t seem to wean her from it."

Duncan laughed. "You shouldn‘t. She learns all manner of fascinating facts."

Encouraged, Adair continued as they helped themselves to the dishes being brought now by the servants: mussels in mustard sauce, trout in white wine, a large, fat roasted capon with a cherry sauce, a small roast of venison, lark pie, rabbit stew, braised lettuces, fresh peas, bread, butter, and cheese. "King Henry is working very hard to make King James‘s government unstable. His agents are coming privily to the border lords in hopes of getting them to switch their allegiances from Scotland to England. Those who refuse, or who they think might refuse, are being raided.

The price of peace here on the border right now is loyalty to the Tudor king."

"The Tudor king is not Scotland‘s king," Duncan said grimly. "And Sir Roger is King Harry‘s chief agent, I am assuming."

"Aye," Adair told him. "He is, I am told, a ruthless man, much like his master."

"Then this is why Jamie made mention of a lad who claims to be your half brother, Richard. He is being championed by the Duchess of Burgundy, Margaret Plantagenet," Duncan said.

"Both Edward and Richard are dead!" Adair said. Tears sprang to her eyes. "The young page who escaped Middlesham after King Richard was killed at Bosworth Field came to me and told me so. He saw the boys strangled and their bodies carried away. The murderers would have been Lancastrians, of course, although in whose pay we will never know. Henry Tudor has killed or imprisoned any other Yorkist claimants to the throne who remained in England. Poor Warwick languishes in the Tower."

"I fear our King James seeks to pay back in kind the Tudor‘s behavior toward him, and toward Scotland. If he supports this lad‘s claim to England‘s throne, who knows to where it will lead, Adair?"

"The English are comfortable now with this king of theirs. They are tired of warring. They will not support any pretender, no matter who advocates for him. Especially a Scots king. If Scots borderers are bitter over the constant raiding, so too are the English borderers weary of it. But they will fight if need be for King Henry," Adair said. "If this Sir Roger Colby has been appointed by the Tudor to cause havoc and dissension, the English borderers will support him, I fear. It is our way of life here in the borders to steal one another‘s cattle, sheep, and women, but it is not usual for it to be done with such violence as has been seen of late."

"We‘ll only seek out where Sir Roger holes up," Conal Bruce said, "and return with our livestock and women. I have an idea where he is. But next time we will burn his house to the ground." He flashed a wolfish smile. "But you, Murdoc, shall not go. If you are to be a priest you want nothing more on your conscience than is now there, lad. I‘m certain your exploits in Agnes Carr‘s bed are more than enough for our priest to tolerate." The laird of Cleit chuckled, enjoying the flush on his little brother‘s face.

"The priest visits Agnes now and again. He says it is to pray with her. She says he comes to fuck her first, and then he prays afterward with her for forgiveness," Murdoc told them with a broad grin. "She says for an old man he is quite lusty."

His brothers and sister-in-law burst out laughing.

"God bless Agnes," Duncan said.

"She‘ll be heartbroken to learn you have a wife," Murdoc said.

"Aye, I have a wife," Duncan said, smiling.

"May I go and meet her while you are off raiding and herding cattle?" Murdoc said. He was the youngest of his late mother‘s five children, and his siblings had a tendency to be protective of him. Cleit‘s cook, Elsbeth, adored him.

Duncan thought a moment, and then he nodded. "Aye, ride over to Duffdour tomorrow and meet Ellen. You need not wait a month or more. ‘Tis foolish."

"I‘ll go with you," Adair said. "When you have finished your raiding, Conal, you may join us there. And we‘ll wait for Duncan to return from his cattle herding before we return home. I‘m sure his lass will welcome a bit of company."

"Will you bring your bairns?" Duncan wanted to know.

"Gracious, no! We don‘t want to frighten the poor lass," Adair replied with a small smile. "My noisy lot might put her off bairns, and you need an heir."

When it was fully dark Conal Bruce, his brother Duncan Armstrong, and their men rode out and headed across the Scots border into the English border. The night was still, and an almost full moon lit the landscape. The laird of Cleit had been told by a passing peddler that Sir Roger Colby had a house in the region known as the Devil‘s Glen. As they neared it they slowed their horses to muffle the sound of their hooves.

"‘Tis well named," Duncan murmured softly as they entered the narrow passage into the little valley. Sheer rock walls and heavy stands of trees surrounded them.

"Aye, it‘s a good hidey-hole," Conal agreed.

At the end of the glen they saw a large stone house, barns, and pens filled with cattle. At the Bruce‘s upraised hand they stopped. The house was dark, indicating that its master was not in residence. Or perhaps on this fine summer‘s night he was out raiding once again. A dog barked twice, but they could not see any indication of men guarding the cattle pens. Obviously Sir Roger felt secure in the Devil‘s Glen.

"Where do you think the women are?" Conal said to his brother.

"Probably the cellars, and I am certain there is household help, but how many servants and how well armed is the question," Duncan said. "Look, at the top of the house—a light. I‘ll wager the servants sleep there. If we could get into the house and then into the cellars we might be able to find the three women without rousing anyone. We can take the cattle afterward."

"We‘ll have to move quickly," Conal Bruce said. "I don‘t want to get caught at the end of this glen, or in the narrow track leading back to the moors."

"I‘ll go into the house," Duncan said, and he signaled to two of his clansmen.

"No," his brother said. "I‘ll go into the house. The lasses are more apt to recognize me than you.

You haven‘t lived at Cleit in several years. You start taking the cattle from their pens."

"How many do you want?" the laird of Duffdour asked.

Conal Bruce grinned wickedly. "My own, and as many others as we can steal," he replied. Then he gestured to several of his men and, dismounting, went toward the house. Soon the shadows of the raiders disappeared.

Duncan Armstrong spoke to the men surrounding him. "Take all of the cattle, lads," he said. The two pens were opened, and as the cattle began to stream out slowly the clansmen herded them away from Sir Roger‘s house and back toward the moors. The laird of Duffdour directed them with soft words and hand signals as they worked. Soon the cattle were gone from his sight, but he remained, waiting for Conal. And finally the laird of Cleit came from the house with his men and the three women who had been stolen. The clansmen mounted, pulling the women up behind them. Then, the two lairds leading the way, they made good their escape from the Devil‘s Glen.

Out on the moor the sky above was now black, the long summer‘s night coming to an end slowly before the dawn. The moon shone brightly as they rode, the noise of the cattle‘s and horses‘

hooves thundering rhythmically as they galloped along. They instinctively knew when the English border became the Scots border. And finally, as the night gave way to the false dawn, they reached Cleit. The clansmen riding with the three kidnapped women headed toward the village on the other side of the hill to return their companions back to their families.

"Why don‘t you take some of the cattle for yourself," Conal suggested. "You‘ll be heading for the high meadows at Duffdour. And you did do much of the work last night while I sought out the lasses. The English used one of them, and at first she didn‘t want to return, for she was so ashamed. She isn‘t certain her husband will want her back. I have said I would go and speak to her man. Poor lass. I know I couldn‘t put Adair away if something like that happened to her.

What would you do, Duncan, if your wife were stolen away, and forced?"

"I don‘t know," Duncan answered. "I haven‘t yet bedded Ellen, although I mean to when I return home. I suppose if I loved her I would be outraged, but whether my anger would overcome my love is a moot point, because I barely know the lass."

"You think too much," Conal said with a grin. "Always did. I thought you might be the priest in the family. Never considered young Murdoc."

"He‘ll be a good priest," Duncan responded. "He is pious without being pompous. And his heart is both good and kind."

"And he understands human weaknesses, having several of them himself," Conal agreed. "But I wonder if can he refrain from fucking Agnes Carr. The rumor is that her two bairns are his." He shrugged. "But if the priesthood is his choice, then so be it."

"His conscience is between him and God. And although it‘s banned, there are plenty of priests even today here in Scotland with hearth mates, or who pay regular visits to the village whore on the pretext of saving her wicked soul."

They had reached the keep. The sun was coming up over the eastern hills.

"Drive them out into the pastures," Conal Bruce ordered his men. Then he and his brother entered the tower house.

Adair greeted them. "You‘re back safe, praise God and his Blessed Mother. Come and eat.

Elsbeth has prepared an incredible breakfast for you."

"We rescued the women," Conal Bruce told his wife. "And we came back with a rather fine herd of cattle. Duncan will take some with him when he rides home."

"Murdoc and I are ready to leave for Duffdour now," Adair said. She bent and kissed her husband. "I‘ll see you in a few days, my lord. Try not to get into any trouble while I am away from you. Jamie‘s birthday is next week. I‘ve left his gifts in the low chest in our bedchamber.

Before you come to Duffdour be certain that their nursemaid knows. And he‘ll be six, Conal, since I know you don‘t remember." She laughed. And then she was gone from the hall, the elusive scent she always wore wafting behind her.

Duncan and Conal ate a hearty breakfast and then sought their beds. It had been a long night.

When they awoke in early afternoon the captain of the men at arms informed them that all was quiet, and no strangers had been spotted from the heights during the day. He would post an extra watch this night, however. The bulk of the cattle had already been taken to the summer meadows. The two dozen that the laird of Duffdour wanted were now penned in the barns and out of sight.

The two brothers spent a companionable evening talking and playing chess. The night remained calm, and in the morning Conal Bruce and Duncan Armstrong parted, one to drive his new cattle to Duffdour, and the other to strengthen the defenses of his home. They would meet again in a few days at Duffdour.

Ellen was very surprised when Sim came into the hall to announce visitors.

"The lady of Cleit and my lord‘s youngest brother, Murdoc Bruce," he said.

Rising, Ellen went to greet her guests, her eyes quickly scanning the beautiful woman with the dark hair and the startling violet eyes who came in the company of a pleasant-faced young man with Duncan‘s blue eyes.

"I am your new sister, Adair," the woman said, "and this is our husbands‘ youngest brother, Murdoc. I hope you will not think us rude, but once Duncan told us he had married, we could not wait for a proper invitation to meet you."

"You are more than welcome to Duffdour," Ellen replied. "Sim, some wine. Our guests have had a long day‘s ride." She led her two visitors to places by the hearth where a small fire was burning, taking the chill off the hall.

They seated themselves, and the servants came with wine. As they waited silently, Ellen was suddenly aware she didn‘t know what to say, and it was apparent that Adair didn‘t either. She was indeed curious that her new sister-in-law had come unasked.

Finally it was Murdoc who spoke. "You‘re even prettier than Duncan told us," he said. "He should be back in a few days, and he‘ll be bringing Adair‘s husband with him to meet you.

You‘re a Highlander." It wasn‘t a question, but a statement.

"Aye, I was, but no more," Ellen replied, and there was a touch of sadness in her voice. "But your borders are lovely, Murdoc."

"Aren‘t they!" Adair had found her voice. "I was raised on the English side."

"How did you come to marry the laird of Cleit?" Ellen asked.

"I was taken in a border raid. Conal bought me and my old Nursie at a Michaelmas fair. I was to housekeep for him, and Elsbeth would cook."

"Oh, my!" Ellen exclaimed, blushing. She knew what happened to women taken by raiding

parties, and they didn‘t usually end up as wives.

"They saved us from burned porridge and weeviled bread." Murdoc chuckled.

"And you never saw your family again? That is so sad," Ellen said softly.

"My parents were long dead," Adair said. "I was six when they died."

"My grandsire raised me," Ellen responded. "My parents died in a winter epidemic. I had no brothers or sisters. It was just Grandsire and me. I was to marry my cousin Donald, but he and Grandsire were murdered by a distant MacArthur kinsman who coveted my family‘s lands. I will never see Lochearn again." She sighed sadly.

"And Stanton, which was my home, is destroyed. It is best to put such things in the past," Adair said. "I grieved far too long for Stanton."

"Oh, you misunderstand me," Ellen quickly said. "I am past grief. I will always remember with happiness both my childhood at Lochearn and my grandsire. But I am not a lass to look back.

Memories are but empty dreams that can never be rekindled. I have been given an honorable man for a husband. And is not this keep a fine one? How can I bemoan a fate such as this, my lady?"

"Adair. My name is Adair," the lady of Cleit said. "What a sensible lass you are. Does Duncan understand that yet? Or has he been too busy adjusting to the fact that he has a pretty wife?"