The Border Vixen (42 page)

“Lord Hay has spoken to us on behalf of Ewan, his brother, who came to protect ye early last winter, and has remained. The perfect solution would be for Ewan Hay to marry yer granddaughter. Yer great-grandsons would have a father to look up to, and Maggie, having proved a good breeder, would undoubtedly have more bairns, ensuring yer line for generations to come.”

“What ye say has a certain merit to it,” Dugald Kerr agreed, “but my answer is a resounding nay. Maggie doesn’t like Ewan Hay, and she never will. I am not a man to tolerate foolishness, but a woman should at least like her husband, my lords. Maggie will find another man in time. But I cannot force her to wed a man she despises. Ewan Hay’s contribution to this keep has been to ensure his own safety by ridding it of my Kerr clansmen while installing his own Hay men-at-arms. We have had to send the females in the keep—but for the cook, Maggie, and her tiring woman—back to their homes for fear of these undisciplined Hay men and their captain, and even then one among them has not escaped unscathed. If ye would aid me, my lords, then rid me of these Hays!”

“The pass must be kept safe,” Alexander Bruce said.

“When did we not keep it safe?” Dugald Kerr asked him. “In more than five hundred years the Kerrs have never allowed the pass to be used for anything but peaceful travel. What has changed now that you would consider subverting my authority?”

“My lord,” Ian Ferguson spoke up, “times have changed, I fear. King Henry sends raiding parties across the border from all directions in his effort to make the Queen Mother do his will, and give him Scotland’s little queen. He has become ruthless in his pursuit. Ye are old and weak. What is to keep yer English kinsmen from succumbing to pressure from their king, of taking advantage of yer frailty, and letting an army through the Aisir nam Breug into Scotland?”

“The road through the traverse isn’t wide enough for more than one man on horseback at a time,” Dugald Kerr answered. “And the hills press the way so closely, it would be impossible to widen it. No army will come through the Aisir nam Breug.”

“But if a small raiding party was allowed through,” Ferguson persisted, “and they took charge of this keep, they could allow other raiders through until there was a large group bent on mayhem. Spies could use the pass to get in and out of Scotland easily.”

“Spies already use the pass and probably have since its beginnings,” the old laird said dryly.

“Ye’ve let spies use the Aisir nam Breug?” Ferguson gasped.

“Of course they have used it,” Dugald Kerr said. “Are ye daft, man, that ye expect I would know a spy if I saw one? But it would stand to reason the pass is used by them. It’s quick and safe, and ’tis discreet. Pay yer toll, and travel in peace is all that we require of those who use the Aisir nam Breug.”

There was a long silence, but then Alexander Bruce spoke again. “Ian Ferguson has brought up a good point. Have ye ever defended yer keep against an enemy who came through the pass, Dugald Kerr? Has yer granddaughter? To my knowledge neither of ye has done so. But if this keep was attacked, it could not be defended by an old man and a young woman.”

“So say ye,” Dugald Kerr quickly replied. “But I believe yer wrong.”

“I’m not,” Alexander Bruce responded. “Ye need a younger man here with ye. The Hays have stepped to the forefront of this dilemma. Maggie must wed Ewan Hay so this keep and its most valuable asset have a defender.”

“Ewan Hay couldn’t defend a barn full of kittens,” Dugald Kerr answered scornfully. “He’s a bully and a coward. Forcing this man on us will cause more difficulties than you can imagine. My clan folk won’t accept him.”

“They will have to if he is wed to yer granddaughter,” came the reply.

Maggie had listened to all the arguments from her spy hole. What was the matter with men that they could not believe that a woman was capable without a man to direct her every move? But if these border lords were united in their resolve, she was going to have a difficult time evading what was to her a horrific future. And she didn’t trust Ewan Hay not to harm her sons once they were wed. He would want his own son to inherit. Annabelle would be safe, for he would consider her daughter something of value to be married off eventually to someone wealthy or powerful, or preferably both.

“See them wed by Lammastide,” Alexander Bruce said. “This situation with England isn’t going to get any easier.”

“This man has not the strength or experience to defend us,” Dugald Kerr protested. “And I’ll not force my Maggie into a marriage she doesn’t want! Get out of my keep, all of ye, and to hell with the laws of hospitality in the Borders! Begone! And take Ewan Hay with ye if ye would help me,” the old man shouted.

Listening, Maggie was proud of her grandsire. He might be old, but he was still strong and determined. Their neighbors had left, but Ewan Hay had not. Having been given the tacit approval of the nearby lairds to wed her, Ewan Hay made plans to do so.

“I won’t implement the marriage of an unwilling woman,” Father David said. “Until the day comes that Maggie agrees to wed ye, I will not perform the ceremony.”

Undeterred, Ewan Hay sent for his brother’s priest, a man who was less scrupulous than Brae Aisir’s cleric.

“We’ll draw up the contracts,” Father Gillies said.

“She’ll never sign them,” Ewan replied.

“Ah, my son, ye will find the means to force her to yer will as is yer right. And as soon as ye do, we’ll perform the blessing. She will be yers.”

Feeling more reassured, Ewan Hay sought to catch Maggie off guard. One late-spring evening, he watched from the shadows in the hall as she saw that the fires were banked without going out and that the candles and lamps were snuffed out. Then in the dim light of the low fires she headed for the staircase. It was there he caught her, stepping out so they were face-to-face.

“Get out of my way!” Maggie snarled at him.

He quickly slid an arm about her, yanking her close and pinioning her arms to her sides. “We are going to be wed shortly, madam,” he said in a cold, hard voice. “I think it is time ye accepted that I will soon be yer husband and yer master.” Then his hand plunged into her gown, wrapping itself about a plump breast.

“Take yer paws off me, ye damned animal. I have a husband, and I don’t need another. I especially don’t need ye.” Maggie squirmed, attempting to break loose.

“Ye belong to me now, ye border vixen, and I’m going to very much enjoy taming ye to the point where ye will come when I call and eat from my hand,” Ewan growled against her mouth. Then he kissed her, but as he did, his grip upon her relaxed.

Maggie yanked her arms up. Her hands clawed down his face. She pulled away from him, the bodice of her gown sustaining a tear as she did. “Don’t touch me!” And she turned to escape him.

His face stinging from her nails, Ewan grabbed Maggie’s thick plait and jerked her back. He slapped her several times. “Ye dare to scratch me, bitch?” he said angrily.

Maggie slapped him back so hard his ears rang, and he actually saw stars. “I warned ye not to touch me, Ewan Hay.” Then she ran halfway up the stairs. “Next time ye attempt it, I’ll kill ye without hesitation,” Maggie warned him. Then she was gone.

Ewan Hay’s cock was hard and aching. He would bind her to the bed on their wedding night to prevent her from using her claws on him again. Then he would run his hands and tongue all over her body at his leisure before he fucked her over and over until she would beg him for mercy. The picture in his head was so graphic he knew he would have to satisfy his lust. Going to the stables, he called for his horse. Then he rode down to the village to Flora Kerr’s cottage.

He did not knock but walked directly into the dwelling, calling for her. To his surprise, the midwife, Agnes Kerr, came from the tiny bedchamber. “Where’s Florrie?” he asked. “I have a great need to fuck.”

“She’s dead,” Agnes Kerr said coldly.

“Dead?” He was astonished by her words.

“She aborted the bastard ye put in her belly,
my lord
,” Agnes said scathingly. “Only that her sister found her and called for me, she should have died alone.”

“She was enceinte?” He was surprised. Florrie had said naught about it.

“We have a perfectly good village whore. A willing good woman,” Agnes said. “But ye could not patronize her, could ye? Ye needed to shame a respectable lass.”

“She was a whore too,” Ewan replied. “She willingly opened her legs.”

“Flora offered a service to the men in this village whose wives were with child and could no longer have conjugal relations. She took no coin, or anything else for it. She did not want their men, or any entanglements. She had a need for cock, and they had a need for cunt,” Agnes said. “But ye forced her, and then made her yer mistress. Well, ye’ll not hurt her anymore,” Agnes told him. “Now satisfy that bulge in yer breeks at the edge of the village with Jeannie.”

Ewan Hay didn’t argue. He walked from the cottage, not even bothering to even take a last look at the woman he had used for a mistress. He found Jeannie’s cottage at the end of the lane, entered it, and then eased his lust on her before returning to the keep. She did not speak with him during the act, and saw him quickly off. It was obvious she knew something had happened and didn’t approve of him at all. He would have to find a more pleasant and cooperative woman to be his mistress. And he’d soon have a spitfire wife, but once he got her with child she would hold no fascination for him.

The Hay priest drew up the marriage contracts between Ewan Hay and Maggie Kerr, but she refused to sign them. Dugald Kerr would not sign them. Maggie would not even come to the hall any longer. As he did not patrol the Aisir nam Breug himself, he had no idea that she was riding it. One day as she came to the border between Scotland and England she spied her cousin, Rafe Kerr, riding towards her. He waved to Maggie, and the two of them dismounted their horses to talk.

Maggie told her English kinsman of how Ewan Hay was attempting to force her into a marriage. “He thinks once he has me for a wife he will have our portion of the pass. He’s already stealing from the tolls taken.”

“How do ye know that?” Rafe queried her. It was just as he had suspected when he warned his father against Ewan Hay. The man was not to be trusted.

“Grandsire taught me when I was twelve years old how to manage our accounts. Of course, Ewan doesn’t know that. He’s taken over everything, or so he believes. But I have kept a careful tab of the traffic since he took my account books from me. And since he has left those records in Grandsire’s old library, I wait until all are sleeping, and then go and check them. He has only recorded four travelers for every five who have come through, Rafe. He is stealing from Brae Aisir.”

“Aye, and from us as well,” her kinsman replied. “We have had complaints from several of our regulars traveling north that after they paid their toll to us, Ewan Hay extracted an additional toll at your end. He threatened to hold their cargo if he was not paid. I was coming to speak with yer grandsire about it.”

“The Hay has driven our Kerr clansmen from the keep and peopled it with his own men. He keeps the drawbridge up day and night. He has no idea that I ride out, because he doesn’t know about the little gate in the wall behind the stable,” Maggie said.

“Grandsire has grown frail trying to maintain control. Now several of the more important neighboring lairds have come and demanded of him that I be wed to Ewan. Despite my having managed our section of the pass before, they insist a woman cannot do it. They will not support me. Instead, they say I must wed and they insist Ewan Hay is the natural choice.”

“Are ye certain that Fingal Stewart is dead?” Rafe asked.

Maggie sighed. “I think I would sense it if he were, and I don’t. Yet there has been no word from him, or request for a ransom.” She sighed again. “I will have to kill Ewan Hay, Rafe, for I will not marry him.”

“Don’t use a weapon,” Rafe advised. “They’ll hang you for it. Poison him, and let him die a slow, lingering death so it looks natural. That is what Aldis did to my stepmother. Of course, many suspected, but nothing could be proved. Shall I find out for you what she used?”

“Aye, I would like to know,” Maggie said, shocked to hear herself asking for such help. But she simply could not marry Ewan Hay. The thought of him atop her made her sick to her stomach. And too, if he got her with child, and she delivered a son, Fingal’s lads would be in danger, she was certain.

“I’ll not come to Brae Aisir today,” Rafe said. “Having learned what I have from ye, I think it best I bring this to my father to learn what he would do.”

“Rafe, I dinna trust yer father either,” Maggie said candidly.

Her cousin laughed. “Ye shouldn’t trust him. He wants the whole of the Aisir nam Breug for himself. He also wants one of yer lads for my half sister. But he is still the master of Netherdale. I will do my best to influence him in the right direction, but I will not deny him his rule or embarrass him publicly.”

Maggie nodded. “I understand,” she said. “It is not a bad idea, matching my elder son with yer half sister, Rafe. I would seriously consider it.”

“I’ll tell my father what ye have told me,” Rafe said. Then he kissed Maggie on both cheeks. “Meet me here in another ten days, Cousin, so we may talk again.”

“I will,” Maggie said. Her kinsman was a good man even if he was English, and she felt a little less alone now. She rode back to the keep, leading her horse through the small door in the stone walls, then into the stables. She unsaddled the animal, storing his saddle, blanket, and bridle carefully away. Then she rubbed the stallion down, checking his hooves to be certain there were no pebbles caught in his shoes.

Finished, she went to the stable door, and peeped out to be sure she would not be seen exiting the stables. As no one was looking in her direction, Maggie slipped out of the barn and hurried across the courtyard into the house. She ran quickly upstairs to find Grizel and told her of the chance meeting with Rafe Kerr. “The Hay has been stealing from us both,” Maggie told her serving woman. Then she said, “Have the lads been fed their meal yet? I promised them I should tell them a story tonight.”