A Year & a Day

by Virginia Henley

  “Help me to walk,” Lynx ordered his squires, overruling Jane’s suggestion. She experienced one small moment of panic that Lynx didn’t need her anymore, but then she began to laugh joyfully. She thanked the sun, the moon, and the stars in heaven that he had taken his first steps on his road to recovery. Jane knew that Lynx lived for the day when he would need no one. He hungered and thirsted for the world and everyone in it to need him!

  As Thomas helped him into the chair, Lynx looked back at Jane outlined in the doorway that led out onto the roof. “Isn’t she wonderful?”

  “She is that, my lord … one helluva woman!”

  Marjory and young Elizabeth joined them on the castle roof. “Oh, Lynx, you are doing so much better. You still look like hell, but I know your strength is coming back.”

  Lynx didn’t seem to be listening. His eyes were glued to the doorway watching for Jane. When she finally emerged into the sunshine, he asked in reverent tones, “Isn’t she beautiful?”

  Jory’s brows swept up as she experienced a revelation. “My God, you are in love!”

  Lynx grinned wickedly. “Don’t you dare tell her.”

  Jory rolled her eyes at Elizabeth. “Oh I vow, my lips are sealed!”

  “They had better be, I am keeper of your secrets, don’t forget,” Lynx blackmailed. As Jane approached, he held out his hand to her. She drew near and placed hers in it. Immediately he pulled her close to steal a kiss. “Your fragrance is so heady, it steals my senses.”

  His sister laughed at Lynx and said dryly, “Don’t worry, Brother, no one would guess your secret in a million years.”

  “Secret?” Jane asked innocently.

  “Oh, didn’t he tell you? Lynx has sworn a vow of chastity as penance for his sins.”

  Jane laughed and returned her husband’s kiss. “I know better,” she whispered to him.

  “Speaking of sinners, here comes one now!” Jory cried, as she spotted Robert Bruce, riding in, hell-for-leather. Marjory picked up her skirts and headed for the outside steps and Elizabeth de Burgh followed.

  “Please,” Jane called out to them, “will you let me be the first to greet Robert?”

  Jory’s lovely green gaze searched Jane’s face. “Of course,” she conceded graciously. “We’ll await you up here.”

  Jane met Robert Bruce as he strode into Dumfries’ entrance hall. He opened his powerful arms and Jane felt herself enfolded. “I couldn’t come sooner, lass. I was near torn in half for you; I thought Lynx had crossed too far over the line to survive. How did you save him?”

  “I think he did cross over, but I have healing powers. Robert, he’s nowhere near well. He is skeletal and soon exhausted. He won’t allow you to see his pain, but sometimes in the night he suffers agony.”

  “I understand. How are you holding up, beauty?”

  Jane’s dimples appeared for a brief moment. “I am now Lady Jane de Warenne. My husband’s plight has given me strengths I never knew I had.”

  “They were always within you, Jane.”

  “Robert, who is the knight with the drooping eyelid?”

  The Bruce looked down at her warily. “He is Lynx’s nemesis—his mortal enemy.”

  “’Fore God, tell me something I don’t know!”

  “He is Fitz-Waren, John de Warenne’s bastard.”

  Jane’s hand went to her breast, “Oh, heaven help us!”

  “Are you telling me Fitz-Waren is responsible?”

  “Yes, but Lynx doesn’t know. Jory knows, and John knows. They didn’t discuss it with me, but the moment the eyelid was mentioned, I could tell by the looks they exchanged that they immediately knew his identity.” Jane placed her hands on Robert’s chest. “When Lynx finds out he will want to go after him and he isn’t strong enough. In fact, I think that Lynx’s fighting days are over.”

  The Bruce put his fingers beneath Jane’s chin and raised her face so that their eyes met. “Is that wishful thinking?”

  “Oh no, I want him to be restored to the same man of iron that he was. Anything less would be intolerable to him.”

  “Jane, listen to me. Lynx may be weak in the flesh at the moment, but there is nothing wrong with his brain. Believe me when I tell you he is strong enough to hear the truth.”

  * * *

  When the two men embraced up on the parapets, all three ladies fought back tears.

  “Damn it, I come to woo the widow and find you still kicking,” Robert declared.

  Lynx grinned. “I’ll fight you for her.”

  “Horseshit! Your fighting days are over.”

  “Not by a long bloody chalk!”

  Jane spoke up quickly. “Let’s give these two some privacy. I know a cockfight when I see one.”

  Marjory went back inside with Jane and Elizabeth, but she protested, “Robert is acting as if there is nothing wrong with Lynx!”

  “My first instinct was to protect Lynx from Robert’s cutting tongue, but I think his words are strengthening. I know in my heart the Bruce would never do anything to harm Lynx; both of you know that too.”

  Lynx watched Robert hoist himself so that he was seated on the crenellated wall, between two merlons. “Your taking William Douglas’s family prisoner won the Battle of Irvine for us. Did you know all along it would make Douglas come over to our side?”

  “I had high hopes. I’m just back from Edinburgh. The governor has appointed me Sheriff of Lanark; he wants no more trouble from that quarter.”

  “How long will the victory at Irvine buy us?”

  “A few months’ peace, perhaps.”

  “Good. I need the summer to recuperate and regain my strength.”

  “John de Warenne has ordered Fitz-Waren and his cavalry north to aid Comyn. Rumor says they had a fearsome quarrel where the governor threatened to strip him of his rank. Good riddance, I thought, until I got home and read the message from my brother Edward in Carlisle. Ormsby, the justiciar, fled to Carlisle. Apparently Fitz-Waren dispatched one of his cavalry officers to warn him about Wallace’s impending attack.”

  “Judas, the bastard is sharing Ormsby’s ill-gotten gains and is obviously in league with Wallace at the same time, if he knew Scone was about to be attacked!”

  “Exactly, and now the governor, thinking to rid himself of trouble, has sent the bastard north, straight into Wallace’s camp.”

  “You still suspect Comyn and Wallace are in league?”

  “Suspect, my arse! I know it for a fact.”

  Lynx narrowed his eyes. “You and Comyn and Edward Plantagenet are like three dogs fighting over the same bloody carcass.”

  “When Scotland bleeds, I bleed. That’s the only reason I exercise patience.” He gave Lynx a shrewd glance. “I’ve exhausted you; you look like a bloody cadaver. Come on!” Robert helped him inside to his bed. Jane was there, waiting to tend him. “What the hell do you see in this man? He’s neither use nor ornament!” the Bruce growled to mask his grave concern.

  Jane smiled and said lightly, “He may not be much to look at, but he makes beautiful children.”

  That night, after all at Dumfries retired, Jane removed the bandages that bound Lynx’s belly. His flesh surrounding the wound was still quite tender. “I’m going to leave it open without binding. I know you aren’t healing as quickly as you would like, but that’s because your body was so physically depleted and run down. Now, turn over for me, but do it very carefully,” she instructed.

  Jane began to stroke his back, then she brushed the silky hair from the nape of his neck so that she could press her fingertips at the base of his skull. Then, with a featherlight touch, she began to stroke her fingers down the entire length of his back on either side of his spine.

  “Lynx, I have struggled with my conscience all day about telling you something. You are nowhere near physically strong enough yet to deal with this matter, but Robert pointed out to me that there is nothing wrong with your brain. So in spite of my overwhelming urge to protect you, I am going to share my knowledge, because
I fear you will never trust me again if I keep this from you.”

  “Sweetheart, I have made you work so hard for my trust.” He reached for her hand and stayed it, as she stroked away his pain. “If this is about Fitz-Waren, I already know.”

  Jane’s mouth went dry with apprehension. “How?” she whispered.

  “As soon as I could utter a coherent sentence, I questioned Thomas and Taffy.”

  “Oh, Lynx, please promise me you won’t—”

  He touched his calloused fingers to her lips. “Hush, love. The only thing I am going to focus on this summer is regaining my strength. I am going to start tonight. As much as I crave your touch, this is the last time you will take my pain away. I want to feel the pain; I need to fight the pain. It will make me stronger.”

  “But, Lynx—”

  “No, Jane.” He drew her down to the bed. “If you want to stroke something, rub this,” he said wickedly, moving her hand to his groin. Lynx closed his eyes. “Lord God, how you make me quiver.”

  “I don’t want to weaken you,” she whispered.

  “It will make me feel stronger and more a man than anything else you can do for me,” he confided.

  Jane took off her night rail and slid her nakedness against his, ecstatic that Lynx was strong enough to achieve a throbbing erection.

  “I’ll be damned if I’ll let the Bruce steal a march on me, for ’tis certain he’ll be fucking right now.”

  “Lynx!” Jane reproved with a gasp. “They will be making love.”

  Lynx thought about it for a minute, then replied, “Nay, they’ll be fucking … then they’ll make love.”

  Jane traced his lips with the tip of her tongue before she kissed him. “You are bad.”

  “Mmm, in a couple of days when I’m stronger, I intend to show you the difference. It will be sooo bad, then sooo good!”

  Lynx de Warenne became a man with a mission. Throughout the rest of June and all through the month of July he focused upon regaining his stamina and rebuilding lost muscle. Lynx began to participate in the tasks of manual labor that proliferated at Dumfries. He helped Keith Leslie in the stables, first by feeding and grooming the horses and, later on, mucking out the stables. He went into the meadows, scything and stacking the hay. Lynx spent an entire fortnight in the blacksmith’s forge, repairing old weapons and fashioning new. He learned how to do everything from tempering a sword blade to shoeing a warhorse.

  Lynx learned how to brew malt beer, then helped to fill and stack the barrels. At the mill he ground grain into flour, then filled up the sacks and stitched them closed. Gradually, steadily, his health improved, some of his strength returned, and slowly, he began to gain weight, which the manual labor converted into muscle.

  Lynx never wanted Jane to be too far away. Midmorning and afternoon he stopped whatever task he was doing so that he could seek her out to spend an hour with her. With his encouragement, Jane sought him out when he worked in the fields, the forge, or the stables.

  It was palpably obvious to one and all at Dumfries that Lynx and Jane were in love and seemed to fall deeper in love with each encounter. Gone was the grim-faced warrior who seemed mature beyond his years. On these bright summer days it seemed he never stopped laughing, and even his squires began to realize that he was a young man of barely thirty years.

  Jane enthralled him. Her image was ever before him, day and night, and when they were separated by even a short distance, she haunted him. Lynx developed an unquenchable thirst for her. When he saw her across a chamber, he had to draw close to her. When he was close, he had an uncontrollable desire to touch her. Her voice enchanted him and her laugh stole his senses.

  Lynx was filled with a compulsion to watch her, touch her, and taste her. He had tumbled head over heels in love for the first time in his life and he wanted the whole world to know it. Lynx stole kisses, teased her, tickled her, picked her up and carried her for the pure pleasure of holding her close. He couldn’t resist caressing her bottom or pulling her into one of the stalls for a lingering kiss and an arousing embrace. His wooing was fierce and relentless and he enjoyed every moment of it.

  Finally, at the end of July he began to hone his fighting skills with his knights and his Welsh bowmen. When he could once more draw a six-foot bow and let loose his arrows with deadly accuracy, Lynx felt a measure of satisfaction that he was making slow progress. He and Jane rode out together, sometimes along the pebbled seacoast where she gathered her touchstones, but more often over the dales with their breath-stopping vistas. She took him to her forest pool, where they swam together, then made love in the tail, fragrant grasses.

  Each night they spent an hour or so with Lincoln Robert before they put him to bed. They bathed their son and fed him and played with him, immersing themselves in the joyous role of doting parents. Then later, in the wide, curtained bed, they explored to the full the mystical, compelling bond that lovers had forged since the beginning of time.

  “I love you, Jane. It’s important that I say it, and more important that you hear me say it, and know that I mean it with all my heart.” The last thing he said to her each night became a ritual. “Jane, will you always love me as you do tonight?”

  “I will and I shall!” she vowed fiercely.

  32

  One afternoon, late in July, at the forest pool, Lynx coaxed Jane from her garments. She clung to her shift, explaining sweetly that she had never swum without it. Jane was enjoying Lynx’s delicious courtship so much that she gave him every opportunity to indulge his wooing. Pretending a reluctance she did not feel, she allowed him to render her as naked as he was himself. Jane dashed into the water and Lynx followed, swimming strongly until he captured her.

  “Do you remember the lynx I befriended? I always dreamed that someday we would swim together in this pool.”

  “You have more courage than sense. Let me show you the danger of swimming with a lynx.” To prove his point, he ducked her beneath the water.

  When she came up, Jane did not sputter, rather she smiled her secret smile. “I know just how dangerous and wild a lynx can be,” she teased, “but I hoped to tame him.”

  Lynx threw back his head and laughed. “What the hell would you want with a tamed lynx?”

  “Absolutely nothing,” she avowed. “I want you just the way you are, for always.”

  Lynx pulled her into his arms and kissed her wet eyelids. Then he lifted her high against his heart to carry her from the water.

  “Don’t lift me, I’m too heavy.”

  Lynx laughed again. “You don’t weigh a hundred pounds soaking wet; besides, exercise is good for me.”

  “I know what exercise you have in mind,” she teased, “and I don’t believe it builds much muscle.”

  “Of course it does; feel this!”

  When he set her feet on the grass, she molded her body to his. “Iron man,” she whispered against his lips.

  Lynx stretched out in the tall grass and pulled her down on top of him. “Let the sun play on your skin, it will make you hot for me.”

  Jane rubbed her face across the tawny pelt on his chest and inhaled deeply. “Mmm, I love the smell of sundrenched skin.”

  “When I lay ill, your fragrance was so clean and fresh when you came close, I couldn’t get enough of it. I love your scent, Jane.” With the tip of his tongue he licked her throat up and down, then her breasts, her nipples swelling so temptingly for his enjoyment. “I love the taste of you too. Lady Jane, I believe you are addicting.”

  “Lady Jane Tut, if you please, my lord.”

  “How do you spell that? With an i?”

  “You are a devil, Lynx de Warenne. I shudder to think what you’ll be like when you regain your full strength.”

  “I’ll make you shudder!” Lynx rolled her beneath him and did as he threatened. He was so hot for her after his forced abstinence, that his lovemaking was fierce and urgent. Lynx was completely aware of the violence of his feelings as he took her swiftly and brought them to a red-hot cl
imax. He was amazed at her response to his blatant sexual hunger. She whispered his name and lifted her fingertips to his mouth, lazily tracing his lips as if she would never have enough of him.

  Her touch aroused him again, instantly, and he turned her body beneath him so that she lay facedown in the fragrant grass. He curved his great body over hers and filled his hands with her beautiful breasts. Jane arched her back, raising her bottom, and he slid into her from behind. The sleek, wet thrusts of his marble-hard erection made her cry out over and over until his voice joined hers in a low, raw moan, and they both dissolved in hot shudders.

  When they were replete, they slumbered in the warm sunshine with the lazy drone of bees humming on the breeze. When at last Lynx stirred, he whispered, “I wish our summer could go on forever. I had no idea being in love was so all-consuming.”

  Jane lifted her mouth to his and teased, “In love?”

  “I fell in love, all right. I’m still falling … I hope I never hit bottom.”

  As the dining hall at Dumfries filled up for dinner, Montgomery approached Lynx with an apologetic glance at Lady Jane. “My lord, I saw a large mounted force approaching from the south and rode out to investigate. It is Justiciar Ormsby, he says he has been summoned by the governor.”

  “The fat swine! John must have ordered him to Edinburgh to answer the accusations leveled against him.” Lynx left the dais to speak with Jock. “Prepare for company. Ormsby is such a coward he’ll no doubt be traveling with a large guard. Accommodate them as best you can; our own men will have to double up.”

  Montgomery spoke up quickly, “He is accompanied by a large baggage train and a great body of foot soldiers.”

  “Splendor of God! John must have trouble again; trouble that he is deliberately keeping from me. Jock, when they arrive, line up the wagons in the bailey.” Lynx turned back to Montgomery. “The foot soldiers will have to pitch their tents in the south meadows, but first, send a message to Robert Bruce.” Lynx returned to Jane and Marjory on the dais. “You’ll have to instruct the cooks to prepare a mountain of food; Ormsby thinks of his fat belly as often as he thinks of his fat purse.”