Fair Border Bride

by Jen Black

  The dark stubble around his jaw made him look like a reiver, but a healthy, expensively dressed and extremely handsome reiver. In spite of the mud and dust clinging to him, Harry wore none of the hard, careworn lines of worry so deeply engraved on Johnnie Hogg’s face.

  “He’s a good man,” Harry remarked. “I’ve come to like him a good deal.”

  Lifting her head, still thinking of Johnnie Hogg, she saw that Harry was observing Matho, who rode twenty yards ahead of them.

  “I’d say Matho is showing unaccustomed sensitivity by leaving us to ourselves.” She angled a flirtatious glance upwards and caught the flash of Harry’s smile.

  “Sensitive? Matho? He’ll never live it down.”

  “He knows we want to be alone.”

  “Do we?” He grimaced. “I must get you back to your parents.” He dropped a brief kiss on her nose. “We will have to wait.” From the way his gaze centred on her mouth, she knew his thought, and sighed.

  “I suppose we must.” She waved a hand over her tattered blue silk. “Mother will have a fit when she sees my wedding dress covered in mud. And blood.” She smoothed the skirt with one palm.

  “Never mind the mud. We can soon get another dress. I could never find another you.”

  Both hands clutching one of his, she pulled it to her bosom and opened her eyes wide. “Really? I doubted it when you remained so silent at Johnnie’s house.”

  His firm mouth curled. “You do know you’re staring at me like an adoring puppy?” He shook his head. “I wanted to do so many things, but couldn’t because he might have used the knife.”

  Alina lowered her lashes. An adoring puppy indeed. Her hand went unconsciously to the strip of almost clean linen Meggie had bound about her throat. “He did use the knife.” She looked up. “But it could have been so much worse. It hurt much more to think that you no longer loved me.”

  “Don’t be silly. Of course I—”

  A shout interrupted him. Up ahead, Matho wheeled his horse and pointed. As Bessie breasted the slope, Harry and Alina saw a company of horsemen sweeping up from the south.

  Alina clutched a fistful of Harry’s doublet. There were a good many men, perhaps twenty, riding at speed across the rough grass. Even at this distance, she could see the glint of armour and weaponry. “Who are they?”

  Harry didn’t answer. His mouth set in a grim line, he spurred Bessie towards Matho and gestured to the riders. “Do you know them?”

  His red hair hidden under a brown cap, Matho wasn’t worried. “It’ll be Errington, after the stolen nags.”

  Alina sagged with relief against Harry’s chest. “Are you sure?”

  “Aye. He’s wearing that damned silly bonnet wi the feather again.”

  His dour, caustic humour made her eyes open wide. Staring out across the hillside, she saw a flash of white about the leader’s head and choked back a burst of laughter.

  “We’re for Aydon,” Harry said quietly. “Matho, you are a free agent.”

  Matho’s face was unreadable, but after a moment, he gathered up the reins and sat up straight in the saddle. “Aye, well, ah’ll let ye lovebirds gan yeeam on yer own. It’s embarrassin’ tryin’ not to watch ye. Mebbe Errington needs a bit o’ elp like.”

  Alina felt warmth creep into her face, and tried not to laugh at his disgruntlement. “Then we shall see you back at Aydon, Matho. Thank you for saving me.”

  He looked at her. “Seem te me ah’ve been pullin’ ye out o’ scrapes all me life. Why should now be any different?”

  As she drew a swift breath to object, Harry waved him on, and Matho, with a grin and salute, rode away.

  They watched the whole company, including Matho, veer off at a tangent across the vista of green and brown fells towards Bewcastle. Matho would steer them away from the dene, and take them to the fields where the stolen horses would be resting and with any luck they wouldn’t find Johnnie, for he had an appointment inside the castle with Burton.

  Chapter Twenty Five

  The sun warmed the air and fitful little gusts of wind blew across the long slope of the hills. At midday they rounded an outcrop of rock by a small stream, unsaddled Bessie and let her graze the sweet, luscious grass. Harry rummaged in the saddle bag and unfolded the square of cloth that held the bread and cheese Meggie had put up for them.

  He drank from cupped hands, rested his back against a stone warm from the sun. Long legs stretched out and crossed at the ankle, he tore off a chunk of bread and spoke around a bulging cheek. “She’s a good sort.”

  Alina dabbed a wet handkerchief at the blood stains on her gown. She looked up for a moment. “Meggie? She’s certainly strong enough to keep Johnnie in line. She says he’s a softie at heart.”

  Harry snorted. “And you believed her?”

  Hands stilled, Alina tilted her head back and thought about it. “Yes, I think I do. There are so many things Johnnie could have done, but didn’t.” She shivered in the sunshine and went back to her work. “Meggie said she comes from a village on the coast south of Newcastle and she met Johnnie on a visit to a cousin’s wedding. They fell in love and ran away. His father was so angry he gave Johnnie no help. That’s why they struggle. He must have been handsome ten years ago but they live such a hard life it would destroy anyone’s looks. Even yours,” she added, with a swift, teasing glance that made Harry smile.

  He licked the crumb of cheese off his fingers and lifted his brows. “Are you not hungry? I’ll have to go back there soon. You could come with me, if you’ve a mind to.”

  Alina spread the hankie on a rock to dry and reached for the food. Busily stuffing cheese inside the bread, she frowned. “We’ve business to settle first, Harry Wharton. Johnnie can wait.”

  “He won’t wait ower long, as Matho would say.”

  Alina chewed and swallowed. “How long does it take to get married? A day? Half a day?”

  “An hour would do it.”

  “Well, then, that’s what we must do first.”

  Harry grinned. “Impatient, are you?” The blue sky behind her was a paler echo of her once splendid gown and emphasised the coppery glints and darker strands in her chestnut hair.

  ‘If Father does not object.’ Alina wiped crumbs from her rumpled skirt. She went on eating, but Harry sensed she was not as confident as she wished to appear.

  “Don’t worry. You will be my bride and he won’t be able touch you.”

  Instantly she faced him, wide eyed. “He never beat me, Harry.”

  “Did I say that he did?”

  She ate the last mouthful and wagged her head from side to side. “I thought you suspected it.”

  “I wondered,” Harry admitted. “He has a temper on him that would have scared me at twelve years old. I’m still full of admiration for Lance and Cuddy. Did he vent his temper on them when I escaped?”

  Alina folded the cloth and stuffed it back in the satchel. “They got a beating, but I didn’t find out until later. They never complained.”

  “And what about you?” For some reason, she would not meet his eyes.

  “He ordered me to marry John.”

  Harry felt strange. If he had stayed away a week longer, she would have been married to another man. It would have been too late. Their glances met and held, both aware of how nearly they had missed each other. They should have been married by now, but for Johnnie Hogg and his disreputable band of reivers.

  A lark sang somewhere in the sky and the soft breeze nodded through the bog cotton and bracken. Harry reached out and pulled her close, lifted her hand and sucked her fingers clean. His arm tightened around her. “I think of you as my wife without being dragged off to church the moment we get back to Aydon. When I saw Johnnie hold a knife to your throat…”

  Her eyes glowed in the sunshine. “What did you think?”

  He shook his head. “I didn’t think, I couldn’t think. I wanted to rush him, throw him to the ground…I would rather have died myself than have him hurt you.”

  “B
ut you couldn’t do that for fear he might kill me.” Slowly she moved closer, touched her lips to his. No more than a feather light touch, it was both a promise and an assurance. “I think you love me, Harry Wharton.”

  The tip of her small pink tongue peeped between her lips.

  “I adore you,” he said.

  “Would you care to prove it?”

  He leaned forward, grasped her temples between his palms and drew her alongside him without breaking their kiss.

  ***

  Alina sought him as eagerly as he sought her. When he pulled down the neckline of her gown, she made no move to stop him. Instead she closed her eyes against the sun and let her fingers find his shoulders, his throat and finally his mouth. Silk rustled and cool air breathed on her thighs.

  She arched closer and his hand traced her outline.

  His skin burned beneath her palms. Larks trilled, high in the sky, and the scent of pollen, buttercups, dandelions and daisies filled her nostrils. When she looked at Harry, she caught her breath. In the darkness of the stable at Grey House, she’d known him by feel and pressure alone. Now, the noonday sun illuminated every rib and shadow of muscle for her delight.

  She ran her fingertips across his belly and smiled when he shuddered. He caught her hand and held it. Pressing against him, she enticed him, lost herself, found hunger welling within her and breathed his name as she took his lips.

  Senses raging, greedy, she wanted more. “Harry—”

  He caught her tight in his arms, rolled her to the grass and settled between her thighs. “I know,” he muttered. Sweat beaded his hairline.

  She waited, panting, gazing up at him. His entry brought shivers of joy. She yelped in delight, curled her knees along his flanks and let her palms skim the smooth skin of his spine. “Harry! Oh, Harry—”

  He groaned. “If you don’t—”

  Her hips pressed upward in soft, enticing flicks, and she laughed, sobbing with eagerness. It was over in moments. He rolled onto one hip, and she followed him, watched him pant like a racehorse that had run a long, hard race.

  “Harry…?”

  His eyes flickered open. “Give me a moment.” He laughed without any breath to support it.

  Her hand went to her chest. “I think my heart will explode.”

  He shook his head. “No, it won’t.” He sat up, shuffled back to the boulder and leaned against it. She crept into the circle of his arm and snuggled against his chest. A little while later, when her breathing settled enough to speak sensibly, she looked up.

  “I wonder…. Do you like custard? Duck eggs?” She smiled, thinking how she would learn everything about him. “I hardly know you. And at the same time, I feel as if I have been waiting for you all my life.”

  He grunted, and dipped his head to her shoulder and licked the moisture from her skin. “I have to admit that you were not in my plans. But they seem strange and unimportant now. They belong to someone else, not me.”

  “What were they, these plans of yours?”

  “Oh, to find and marry an heiress.”

  Safe in the knowledge that he could not see her, she pulled a face. “Money or land?”

  A bead of sweat dripped onto her hand. “Both.”

  “A grand plan indeed.” She tipped her head up. “I apologise for not being rich, but I will have lands once I marry.”

  “You will?”

  “I will. But that’s not important, is it? I’ll make up for being poor with kisses every day. If kisses will make you rich, then rich you shall be.”

  “Once I would have laughed at that. Now I know differently. You have changed me, altered my view of life.”

  “You mean you’d rather live on love than seek a rich heiress?”

  His arm encircled her and he pulled her so close his nose touched hers. “Indeed I will. Don’t let the supply ever dry up.” His finger traced the bandage at her throat. “Life without you would be impossible.”

  He looked so vulnerable that kissed him lightly on the lips and found him regarding her through half-closed eyes. “I remember the moment when your blood spurted under his knife. Words I’d never thought I’d say rushed through my mind. Totally unhelpful and wonderfully surprising words.”

  “What words were they, Harry?”

  “Can’t you guess? You know, those three little words our parents scoff at so much. They’ve echoed in my mind ever since. How it happened, or when, I do not know.”

  “Which words?”

  “I love her.”

  “Oh, Harry. I love you, too. You must have missed me, then?”

  His mouth pulled to one side, and his eyes changed shape as he smiled. “Missed you? A bad-tempered harridan with big brown eyes and the courage of a grown man? Never.”

  ***

  “Alina!” The roar came down from the allure of Aydon Hall and bounced off the stones of the curtain wall. It was a voice she recognised.

  “Oh, lord, I daren’t look,” Alina whispered. “It’s Father.” She shut her eyes and clutched Harry’s doublet.

  The roar came again, with even more annoyance laced into it. She opened her eyes and squinted against the glare. There on the wall-walk stood two figures, one easily recognised, the other a stranger.

  “Jesu!” muttered Harry. “That’s my father standing next to him. I wonder what they’ve found to talk about.” He grinned at her and then grimaced. “Never fear. They can’t touch us now.”

  He guided Bessie through the gate, dismounted in the outer bailey and held out a hand to Alina. She slid down into his arms and together they turned to face the two middle-aged men walking out from the inner courtyard.

  Cuthbert Carnaby’s face was mottled red, but the man next to him, a superbly dressed grey-haired man in grey tunic and matching hose, looked as if he struggled to restrain his amusement.

  Suddenly aware of her bedraggled appearance, Alina dipped a hasty curtsy in their direction and addressed her father. “I’m safe and well, as you see, sir. Harry rescued me from the reivers’ band.”

  Carnaby cleared his throat, but said nothing.

  Puzzled, she stared at him, waiting for him to speak. Groping for Harry’s hand, she gripped it firmly. Her father did not utter a word.

  Sir Thomas Wharton inclined his head politely to Alina. “Well met, Mistress Carnaby. I am Harry’s father, as he has no doubt told you. Harry, I came in order to greet your new bride and heard only the story of her abduction. It seems your life is full of adventure these days. How are you, lad?”

  Harry let go of her hand and stepped forward, smiling. The two men met in a brief embrace. “I am well, Father, as you see.”

  “Alina, Alina!” Lance ran up, threw his arms around her waist, and then backed off, red-faced. “’Lo, Harry.” He looked at Alina. “Cuddy’s gone for Mama.”

  Wharton looked at his host. “Perhaps we should go inside?”

  Carnaby jumped. “Of course, of course.”

  Alina glanced at Harry and waggled her brows in amazement. What on earth was matter with Father? It was most unlike him to remain silent.

  Carnaby led the way but Wharton hung back and addressed his son. “I arrived a little while ago, and was surprised to find you absent and unmarried. I take it you will be completing the marriage ceremony at the earliest opportunity?”

  “Of course. As soon as it can be arranged.”

  “I see no reason to delay.” Wharton glanced at the man hesitating at the bottom of the steps. “What do you say, Carnaby?”

  Alina squeezed Harry’s hand. “Just what I want,” she whispered. “I like your father, Harry.”

  Carnaby grunted. “To be sure. The sooner she’s married and off my hands, the more delighted I’ll be. We can soon rouse the priest from his quarters at Halton.”

  Sir Thomas had a glint in his eye as he surveyed his son. “Mount up, Harry. We’ve a wedding to attend.”

  “No!” Alina headed for the stairs to the hall and then hesitated. She half-turned, and dimpled a smile at Harr
y’s father. “I do not wish to seem rude, sir. But I cannot get married looking like this!” From the first step she glanced down at Harry, eyes pleading. “I must see Mama. Give me but a little while and I shall be ready.”

  Sir Thomas considered his son’s appearance and smiled. “Perhaps Harry could also benefit from a change of clothes. How fortunate I had his wardrobe brought with me.”

  Harry leapt up the stairs behind Alina and ran straight into a flurry of feminine cries as Mistress Carnaby and Cuddy burst out of the hall. The two women hugged each other and Cuddy’s face, already beaming, lit up. “Harry!”

  Squealing, the boy flew across the square landing and threw himself into Harry’s arms. “You’re back!”

  Scooping him up and holding him with one arm, Harry continued into the hall. “How are you, lad?” He listened to Cuddy’s excited voice but stared at the picture of mother and daughter in each other’s arms. Eyes closed, tears glinting on her cheeks, Margery Carnaby murmured words Harry could not hear while Cuddy lisped questions in his ear. Finally the women released one another and Alina scrubbed her sleeve across her face before she swooped across to Cuddy and kissed his cheek.

  Margery Carnaby blotted her face with a wisp of lace-edged linen and took a deep breath. “Please come inside, sir.”

  Harry put Cuddy back on his feet and grasped Alina’s hand. Following his hostess inside, he smiled at Alina. “All seems well?”

  “Oh yes, but what’s happening, Harry? Father seems afraid to say a word! Has your father threatened him?” She swung round to her mother. “Mama, do you know?”

  Margery Carnaby shook her head. “Harry’s father has not been here above an hour. We offered him refreshments, and there has been nothing said in my hearing.”

  “We shall find out later,” Harry said.

  The south window in the hall was open to the gentle breeze and as they walked through to the solar, voices from outside drifted up to them. Harry recognised his father’s cultured speech and nudged Alina towards the window embrasure. Eyes alight with mischief, she tiptoed into place beside him.