The Border Lord's Bride (38 page)

"Then I am totally mystified," Sir Roger admitted.

"Perhaps a good night‘s sleep, and it will come to you," Sir Lionel said. "I shall depart at first light on the morrow, my lord. I appreciate your hospitality." The king‘s man bowed politely.

"Rafe!" the lord of the castle shouted, and the sergeant came to his side. "Sir Lionel is leaving us in the morning. See that his horse is waiting at first light. And show him where he can sleep tonight." Sir Roger turned to Sir Lionel. "I thank you for your service," he said. Then he turned and departed the hall.

Lionel de Frayne watched him go. An odd man, he thought. Perhaps even a touch mad. He

followed the sergeant, who showed him a bed space and bade him good night before leaving the hall. He wondered briefly about the captive woman, but realized that it was really not his business at all, despite the strangeness of the situation.

Roger Colby mounted the stairs to the west tower. He turned the key in the lock of the door at the top of the steps and walked into the small dayroom. "Where are you?" he shouted, and when no one answered him he repeated his question. "Where are you, madam? This is hardly the place to hide from me."

"I am not hiding, my lord. I was merely putting a house robe about myself, as I was preparing for bed," Ellen said, coming forth from the bedchamber. "What is it that you want?" She looked at him as if he were something distasteful.

"How dare you say what you said to the king‘s man!" Roger Colby said angrily.

"Do you think I wanted the man thinking I was something other than what I am?" Ellen

responded. "I have little use for the English, but I would not have this man thinking I was some light-skirted creature of ill repute. You have kept me imprisoned for almost three months now.

Have you not had your revenge on Duncan Armstrong? It is obvious he has no idea of where I am, for who knew that you had this den of yours to run to when you needed to hide. Devil‘s Glen is where you made your home in the borders. Give me a horse and let me go! I will find my own way home. Your king obviously wants you back, and now that you have that privilege your quarrel with my husband should be over and done with, my lord."

"King Henry has sent me a message. He has a problem he wishes me to solve, and then I may return to court. But his message is a riddle, and I do not understand it," Sir Roger admitted.

"What is the riddle?" Ellen asked him, curious. Perhaps if she could help him solve the riddle he would let her go.

"He has asked me to remove the thorn from the paw of the lion," Sir Roger said.

Ellen thought for several moments, and then she said, "The lion would be England, or your king.

A thorn in its paw would be some sort of irritant." She thought again, and then as the reality of the message dawned on her Ellen clapped her hand over her mouth in shock. No! It couldn‘t be!

"What?" Sir Roger asked her. "What?"

"‘Tis too wicked! ‘Tis monstrous!" Ellen cried.

"What is?" he demanded of her again

"It goes against God‘s law," Ellen said.

And then a dawning understanding came into Sir Roger‘s eyes. A smile lit his features. "I am to kill James Stewart," he said softly. "Aye, that is it, for your king is a plague on mine! What an honor I have been given! The king has not lost his faith in my abilities to be of service to him!

But I can do it! Aye, I can! I will need help, but I know just where to find such aid." Reaching out suddenly, he yanked Ellen to him.

Horrified, she attempted to push him away. Was he evil? Aye! He was evil. Was he mad? The light in his eye bespoke madness, but she was not certain. "Let me go," Ellen said quietly.

Instead his arms tightened about her. "Do you know why I brought you here, madam?" he asked her. "Aye, you know what I have told you. But you do not know all of it. Hiding you away from the laird of Duffdour has, I know, hurt his heart, but it is his pride I wish to scar forever. I thought by incarcerating you in my dungeons for some weeks I would break your spirit, but I have not. So I imprisoned you in this tower, hoping that you would be grateful to me for my benevolence. But you are not. I have kept you from all company but my own in my attempt to turn you toward me, but you can think of nothing but your husband and child. You are a strong woman, madam, but if I am to have my revenge upon Duncan Armstrong, I must break you so that I may break him. When I return you to him, my stamp must be upon you. Your lips must be swollen with my kisses. Your body must smell of my lust. I will know you better than he has ever known you. He will never be able to look at you without remembering that I have had you, that another man has plundered what is—or was once—his alone. Do you understand me,

madam? Do you understand what I am saying to you?"

"You would dishonor me," Ellen replied quietly, and her heart was hammering with her fright.

She would not permit him to see her fear, but she was indeed close to breaking after her months in Colby‘s custody. Now, her body pressed hard against his, she had to swallow down that fear, because should he see it, or suspect she was afraid, she would have no defense against this man.

"I will have you in every way a man can have a woman," he told her softly against her mouth.

One arm wrapped about her; his other hand slowly caressed her buttocks beneath the house robe.

"Have you ever had a man‘s cock in your ass, madam? I will wager you have not, but you will take mine there one day soon." He squeezed the flesh beneath his fingers. "And you will suck my cock sweetly, and I will fuck you until you beg me for mercy, but I will show you none. And then one day you will beg me to fuck you, because you will have come to enjoy my attentions, and need them."

"Never!" Ellen said through gritted teeth. "Not even if you lock me back in your dungeons for a thousand years."

He laughed. "I have told you, madam, that all women are whores and sluts. You will prove yourself such sooner than later, despite your overweening pride." Then his mouth found hers in a cruel and brutal kiss as he ripped open the house robe she wore, and then her chemise beneath to find one of her breasts. He squeezed the small, round globe, his fingers bruising the soft white flesh, pinching the nipple hard, her cry of pain lost in his mouth.

Ellen struggled against him, her memories of Balgair MacArthur overwhelming her. His tongue ravaged her tongue. She bit his lips, and he swore softly, pinching her nipple again so fiercely that tears came to her eyes. She managed to bring one of her hands up and clawed at his face. His hand wrapped about her thick braid, yanking her away from him as he slapped her. Stunned, but angry, Ellen slapped him back.

"You but whet my appetite, madam, but I have more important matters to attend to now than fucking you, although I am sorely tempted. Still, now you will understand that I mean to master you, and the sooner you accept this fact the better it will be."

Ellen gathered up her spittle and spit it all in his face as hard as she could.

Roger Colby swore viciously and slapped her again several times. "You will pay for that, madam," he snarled. Then, pushing her from him, he strode from the chamber, remembering to lock the door behind him as he went.

Ellen stood transfixed for what seemed a long time. Her cheeks burned from his slaps. Her heart hammered with a mixture of fear, outrage, and anger. She had to escape Colby Castle, but how?

The door to her rooms was kept locked at all times, and the only other way out was by means of the windows. She went now to one of them, clutching her torn garments to her as she did. But the dark had already set in, and while she knew she was high up, Ellen could not be certain how high her rooms were. To jump would certainly kill her, and while death did certainly seem a better alternative to Roger Colby‘s plans for her, Ellen knew she just wasn‘t brave enough to die.

Besides, if her tormentor meant to make an attempt on King James‘s life, she needed to escape so an alarm might be raised, and the king saved.

Closing the window, she repaired to her bedchamber, pouring water into her ewer, scrubbing herself free of Sir Roger‘s scent. She stripped the ripped clothing off, putting on a fresh chemise.

Then she examined the torn robe to see if it might be repaired. The chemise was only damaged slightly in his efforts to paw her. Ellen sighed. It was repairable, and she would take care of it tomorrow. Climbing into her bed, she found she could not sleep. She thought, as she had every night since she had been kidnapped, of her husband and their child. Had Willie managed to survive? The thought of having lost her child caused her tears to flow. What if her bairn had died? What if Duncan would not forgive her because she had been soiled by another man? For the first time since she had been stolen away Ellen felt despair.

Of course, she did eventually sleep, although every creak and groan of the old castle startled her.

Was it Sir Roger? Was he coming to violate her? She awoke feeling headachy and sore. After getting up and dressing, she gathered up her sewing basket. Then, sitting herself in her dayroom, she began to mend the garments that had been damaged yesterday. Outside the day was gray. She felt sorry for Sir Lionel de Frayne, who would be leaving on what promised to eventually be a rainy day. He might stay ahead of the weather for part of the day, but it would ultimately catch up to him. She put another log on her hearth fire to encourage a bit more warmth from it. Come winter this tower would be cold, but of course, Ellen told herself, she would not be here when winter came.

She repaired the chemise, which had been only minimally torn. Then she started to work on the house robe, which required finer stitches, for the damage to it was greater. When she heard the rain beating against the window it dawned upon her that no one had brought her anything to eat that morning, and it was already into the afternoon. Sir Roger probably thought he could starve her into submission.

For three days she saw or heard no one, but late on the fourth day she heard the key turning in the lock of the door, which opened to reveal an elderly serving woman carrying a tray. She said not a word, but set her burden on the table and then shuffled out, locking the door behind her.

Ellen walked over to the tray to find a chunk of bread, a sliver of cheese, and a goblet of wine.

Shrugging at the paucity of the meal, she nonetheless ate it, drinking down the wine, for she was thirsty, and her water supply was low, so she had been conserving it. The wine was sweet and tasted of ripe grapes. Picking up her sewing, she began to work again, but the light was fading, and she was genuinely tired tonight. Going into her bedchamber, she disrobed but for her chemise and climbed into bed. She quickly fell into a deep slumber.

As the almost-full moon streamed through the tower windows Sir Roger Colby opened the door to Ellen‘s chambers and stepped inside. He wore only a shirt, and carried with him a small woven willow basket. Walking quickly across the floor, he entered the bedchamber and looked upon his prey. She was sleeping soundly, as he knew she would be. He smiled a cold, pitiless smile, his face a feral mask as he drew the bedclothes down to reveal the young woman beneath, her chemise riding halfway up her body to reveal a goodly part of her slender legs.

Setting the basket upon the floor by the bed, Sir Roger removed a silken cord from it. He slid the length slowly through his hand, as if contemplating what he would do, but Ellen‘s sleeping deeply upon her back, one arm above her head, made his decision an easy one. Leaning over Ellen, he gently drew her other arm up and, bringing the two limbs next to each other, he tied them together carefully. Reaching back into the basket, he withdrew two more lengths of silken cord and tied each of her legs to the turned posts of the bed. Straddling the unconscious bound woman, Roger Colby took a small knife from the basket. Slowly he cut Ellen‘s chemise open, pulling back the halves of the garment so he might view her nakedness as he licked his lips in anticipation of what was to come.

Stripping off his own garment, he lay on his side next to her. She was lovely, he thought, and for the briefest moment he felt the tiniest twinge of guilt, but it quickly passed. If he had had more time he would have taken it to seduce her into his bed, but there was no more time. The royal messenger had left with Roger Colby‘s assurances that he fully understood King Henry‘s message, and would complete his commission before returning to the court. Sir Lionel de Frayne had ridden off in a light rain, and the master of Colby Castle had considered how he might best go about assassinating James Stewart, Scotland‘s king.

But first Roger Colby meant to despoil the lady Ellen, wife of the laird of Duffdour, before returning her to her husband. In doing so he would take Duncan Armstrong‘s honor, as the Scot had taken his. Rolling onto his other side, Sir Roger reached into the basket and drew out a glass vial filled with liquid. Turning back to the sleeping woman, he put an arm about her, raising her up. Uncorking the vial, he put it to her lips. "Drink, madam," he murmured softly in her ear.

"Drink and enjoy."

She couldn‘t quite awaken at first, even with the voice droning in her ear, but she felt the glass at her lips and, opening them, drank thirstily, for her mouth was so dry. The cool, sweet liquid tasting slightly of some berry she couldn‘t identify slid easily down her throat. She finally managed to open her eyes, only to find Roger Colby smiling down on her like a large tabby cat contemplating a treat.

Ellen gasped and attempted to sit up, but she couldn‘t.

"Do not bother struggling, madam, for I have bound you hand and foot," Sir Roger said. "You have exquisite little breasts, you know." His rough hand fondled her.

"What are you doing?" Ellen cried. Oh, God, she was so confused and dizzy. What was the matter with her? "Do not touch me, you monster!"

He laughed softly. "The wine was drugged, you know. I only gave you that bit of food so you would not collapse where you ate. I wanted you in bed waiting for me." He tweaked the nipple on her breast, which had puckered tightly with his play.