Elizabeth de Burgh’s face turned scarlet, but she fairly bubbled with excitement. “I must tell Maggie and Molly, they will be in a tizzy! Jory, will you come with me to Lochmaben?”
“What nonsense! I’ve taught you all I know. Didn’t I teach Jane to be Lady Jane Tut? Now it is time for you to unfurl your petals and bloom, Elizabeth.”
When the young girl ran off to find her women, Jane looked at Marjory with profound admiration shining in her eyes. “Oh, Jory, how selfless and generous you are. I don’t think I’d have the courage to do what you are doing.”
“Now you are spouting nonsense. Where do you think I learned such things, Jane, if not from your glorious example?”
In London, at the great hall of Westminster, William Wallace was charged with an endless litany of sedition and homicide, including putting to death old men and young, wives and widows, children and sucklings, and priests and nuns.
Since King Edward had declared him an outlaw, Wallace was not allowed to defend himself. He was immediately found guilty and sentenced to be hanged, drawn, and quartered.
When eyewitness accounts of William Wallace’s execution reached Scotland, however, English as well as Scots were outraged at the unspeakable butchery. Wallace’s body was bound on a hurdle and dragged at the tail of horses through the city of London from Westminster to the gallows at Smithfield. He was hoisted with a noose about his neck, but let down while he was half-living. Next his genitals were cut off. Then his bowels were torn out and burned in a fire while Wallace still lived. Only then was he beheaded and his trunk cut into four pieces.
His head was spiked on London Bridge; his right leg was sent to Berwick, his left to Perth, his right arm to Newcastle, and his left to Stirling.
Hatred toward Edward Plantagenet deepened over such barbaric butchery of the brave knight, especially since time and time again the king had forgiven the treachery of Scotland’s nobles.
Word must have reached Edward’s ears of the outrage of all in Scotland in general, and the Bruces and the de Warennes in particular, for suddenly they were out of favor. The king sent an official notice that John de Warenne had been removed from the governorship of Scotland and demanded an accounting of monies. In his place the king named four guardians, but Robert Bruce, Scotland’s premier earl, was not one of them. To pile insult upon insult, King Edward appointed a new sheriff for Lanark and demanded the Bruce repay debts owed by his grandfather from two decades earlier.
Robert Bruce ground his teeth and wondered if documents taken when Wallace was arrested implicated him in any way. He knew such damning evidence would prevent any secret alliance with the Irish Earl of Ulster. But when Edward de Burgh arrived at Lochmaben for his promised visit, the Bruce heaved a sigh of relief.
He was gratified to learn that the Irish palatine found Edward Plantagenet’s treatment of Wallace beneath contempt. The Bruce lost no time proposing a betrothal between himself and Elizabeth de Burgh, in exchange for Ulster’s backing when Bruce made a bid for the throne.
“Baliol is dead and we both know King Edward’s days are numbered. His heir is no threat to any save himself,” Robert pressed.
“You will have to fight Comyn. In the end it comes down to the two of you. Did you know he is claiming all Baliol’s possessions because of their kinship?”
The Bruce laughed sardonically. “I cannot see Edward Plantagenet taking kindly to such a claim.”
Ulster agreed. “No, at the moment Comyn too is out of royal favor.”
As the two men talked long into the night, Edward de Burgh, with an eye to the future, saw that the advantages of Bruce’s offer outweighed the risks. It did not take much persuading for the powerful Irish earl to agree to the secret betrothal.
The documents were drawn up and signed and Elizabeth de Burgh almost fainted at the midnight ceremony where Robert Bruce plighted his troth to her, under the watchful eye of her stern father.
At the end of the week when the visit was over, they escorted Elizabeth back to Dumfries before Ulster took her home for a quick trip to her beloved Ireland. Young Elizabeth was in a complete state of euphoria, even though Robert hadn’t actually begun his wooing yet.
At Dumfries after all in the castle had retired, Lynx and Robert spoke quietly. “John looks much rested, but from what he said at dinner he is livid about his shabby treatment by Edward.”
“It’s obvious one of our enemies has the king’s ear,” Lynx cursed. “I suspect Fitz-Waren; he could very well be in England. If he is, I will find him and kill him. John and I have decided to return to our English estates. That way when Edward orders us to put down a Bruce rebellion, we will be far removed from Scotland and can turn a deaf ear to the call to arms.”
“I am convinced the time is right. If I don’t act decisively now, it will be too late. I’ve never been so far out of Edward’s favor, and for once, my enemy Comyn is in like case,” Robert Bruce added with amused irony.
“How so?”
“Comyn is claiming all that was Baliol’s.”
Lynx whistled. “Christ, that’s a deal of estates and possessions. Between the two of you, that’s half of Scotland. Too bad you can’t join forces against Edward.”
The Bruce smiled.
Lynx refilled his friend’s goblet. “You cunning swine, what plot are you hatching?”
“Comyn is close-by at his castle of Dalswinton. I’m going to send him a proposition. One of us will support the other for the crown. The loser receives the winner’s lands and castles. What do you think?”
“It’s brilliant! It’s an offer he can’t refuse—there is no real loser.”
“It’s time I acted in my own interests.”
Lynx grinned, wondering when the hell he’d ever done otherwise.
“There is no trust between Comyn and me. I won’t go to Dalswinton and he won’t come to Lochmaben. We need a neutral meeting place.”
“You are welcome to use Dumfries,” Lynx offered.
The Bruce shook his head. “I don’t want you involved in this. I want you safely on your way to England before any bond is signed.”
“How about the Franciscan monastery? Both of you would be safe in sanctified surroundings.”
“Your suggestion is sound,” Robert agreed. “’Tis sad you must leave Dumfries, but when I am king and our countries live in peace, you must return.”
“My wife and my son are Scots. We shall return to Dumfries someday, never fear.”
“Is Jane unhappy?” Robert asked with concern.
“No, bless her heart, she is willing to do my bidding, even though the thought of England frightens her a bit.”
“She has no idea of the luxury of the de Warenne estates in England?”
“Of course not, do you think she wed me for my wealth?”
“Why else would she wed an ugly brute like you?”
Robert Bruce quietly made his way to the Lady Tower and knocked low. When Jory opened the door, he slipped inside. “My own beloved heart, I have come to say goodbye.”
Jory went into his arms, determined to shed no tears. She wanted him to remember her radiant smile. “Robert, my love, you’ll be a part of me forever.”
It was no small undertaking for the de Warenne mesne to vacate Dumfries and return to England. As well, John de Warenne had his own army who would accompany him back to Surrey. It was decided they would leave in stages, with John and his personal guard departing first, then in a few days the Welsh foot soldiers would follow, and the last to leave would be Lynx de Warenne accompanied by his knights, squires, and family.
Each army had its own baggage train of horses, armor, weapons, and supplies that would have to be transported in stages from Dumfries to their castle of Wigton near Carlisle, then to Lancaster and Chester on the border of Wales and so on to the vast de Warenne estates in the south of England.
Lynx found the services of Dumfries’ steward so invaluable he offered to take Jock Leslie and his entire family to England with them. Jock shook
his head. “We are castle keepers, my lord, and we will keep Dumfries running smoothly for you until you return.”
“Jock, that may not be for years,” Lynx urged, “and Jane will miss you sorely.”
“We’ve had a family conference and we’ve all chosen to remain here at Dumfries, wi’ the exception of Keith. He can no’ bear to part wi’ the horses!”
“Jane is thrilled that Keith is coming with us and she’s already talking about sending for some of her older nephews and nieces so they can be educated in England.”
Jock chuckled. “That would be over Megotta’s dead body, nae doubt!”
Jory de Warenne’s personal effects alone filled an entire wagon and Jane was busy from morning till night packing the household furnishings, their clothes, and Lincoln Robert’s entire nursery. Jane persuaded Grace Mur ray to come with them. The nursemaid was extremely wary of England and the English, but she had become firmly attached to the wee lordling.
Three days after John de Warenne departed, Lynx’s Welsh bowmen set off on their long march, and three days hence his knights and his family would follow. It was not before time; the Bruce had informed Lynx that he had met with Comyn and documents were being drawn up on their secret agreement.
That night when Jane bathed the baby, Lynx helped her put him to bed. “We have to take both cradles and his baby bath, oh and remind me to ask Thomas to find room for our own bathtub.”
Lynx groaned. “If you load any more unnecessary baggage we’ll sink into the first bog we cross. Don’t you think we have bathtubs in England?”
Jane went up on tiptoe and slipped her arms about his neck. “I don’t care about bathtubs, but I will miss my enchanted forest pool. Will you take me there tomorrow one last time?”
Lynx loved her far too much to deny her anything.
36
After Falkirk, Fitz-Waren’s options began to run out. Montieth shunned him, then went into hiding while he plotted to betray Wallace. The warrant for Fitz-Waren’s arrest that his father had issued prevented him from returning to the army, and prompted even his own officers to turn against him. To save their own necks, they were ready to turn him over to the governor, and they knew far too much about his affairs.
As his funds dwindled away, hatred for the de Warennes seethed in his blood. He had treasures at Torthwald, but when he returned to that castle, he saw that Lynx de Warenne’s knights guarded the gate. He returned to Edinburgh, hiding in the bowels of the city, changing lodgings constantly until his money was gone, then he furtively prowled about the castle under cover of night, reduced to stealing food from the kitchens and sleeping in the stables.
His father’s guards made it impossible for Fitz-Waren to get anywhere near him and when he learned of John’s ill health he fervently wished the old swine would die. Fitz-Waren also heard castle servants speaking of the king’s deteriorating health and realized Edward Plantagenet’s days were numbered. A spark of hope kindled in his depraved brain. Fitz-Waren decided to look to the future. It should not be difficult to cultivate the Prince of Wales. If he curried favor with young Edward, was it not conceivable the new king would bestow on him the earldom of Surrey? Provided of course that John and Lynx de Warenne were eliminated.
When John de Warenne journeyed to Dumfries, Fitz-Waren followed and found a safe haven close-by in Selkirk Forest. The summer nights were warm and the game so plentiful, all he needed was his knife and a hunting bow he fashioned from the long, sturdy branch of a larch tree. Fitz-Waren watched and waited, his mind obsessed with murder.
Lynx lifted Jane before him in the saddle as they rode out together to bid this beautiful place their last good-bye. As they meandered slowly down the bank of the river Nith, Jane pointed out a pair of sleek otters as they glided through the water and Lynx reined in so they could watch them climb from the water and chase each other through the tall reeds.
Jane leaned back against his chest, relishing the feel of his muscles restored to hardness. Lynx tightened his arm about her waist and turned their mount so that it headed toward the forest. A doe, suddenly startled, dashed away through the trees. “Your horse frightened her, we should have come on foot,” she told him.
“Then I would have been deprived of the pleasure of riding with you between my thighs.”
Jane glanced up at him over her shoulder. “It’s usually the other way about.”
Lynx, half aroused, suddenly hardened all the way.
Jane couldn’t resist teasing him. “If you are hot and bothered, my lord, a swim will cool you down.”
“Then we had better forgo the swim,” he replied as they arrived at the forest pool.
“But, my dearest lord, if you don’t want to swim, there is no reason to undress,” she teased.
Lynx dismounted and lifted her down to him, letting her slide down the length of his hard body. “Is there not, my love?”
Her dimples appeared. “Trust you to find a reason.”
Lynx undressed her slowly, savoring their building anticipation. He dropped a kiss on each portion of her lovely anatomy as it became exposed to the warm sunshine, then Jane did the same to Lynx as he threw off his clothes with more haste. Their passion kindled quickly, stimulated by the excitement of making love outdoors, in their own private Eden.
Lynx stretched out in the long grasses and delicate wildflowers, pulling her down to him so that they were half-hidden by the fragrant flora that grew so lushly beside the forest pool and wafted about them in the light summer breeze.
“I love you,” he told her between kisses.
“When did you discover that you loved me?” Jane whispered, eager to be told over and over.
“I’ve always loved you,” he vowed.
“Liar,” she teased. “You never noticed me until Jory showed me how to make you jealous. Admit the truth, it was Lady Jane Tut you fell in love with.”
Lynx kissed her deeply, then held her gaze with an intense look. “Do you want the truth? All the feminine tricks Jory taught you made me desire you, even lust for you, but it was your own sweet nature that made me love you. When I lay deathly ill and helpless, you gave me everything … held back nothing. That is the moment I tumbled hopelessly, deliriously in love with you.”
Jane’s heart overflowed. “Mmm, love and lust, what a glorious combination,” she murmured, molding her body to his intimately and offering up her mouth so that words were no longer necessary, or even possible.
Hidden by a thick canopy of leaves, Fitz-Waren watched the lovers through malevolent eyes. The hatred he harbored for Lynx de Warenne pulsed through his veins like pure venom. Here was the author of all his misery, here was the reason for his father’s rejection, here was the cause of his fall from grace and every misfortune he had ever suffered! Fitz-Waren cursed that his detested cousin had escaped his daring attack and survived. Not only was he still living, the son-of-a-whore was thriving, enjoying life to the full!
Fitz-Waren’s view was obscured by the tall grasses, but he could hear every word, every rustle, every cry of passion. He curbed his impatience; this time he knew he must not fail. Fitz-Waren gripped the bow and arrow and sat back on his haunches to wait.
Lynx shook off the delicious lassitude that made him drowse in the warm afternoon. “Are you awake, love?”
“Mmm, I’m watching something here in the grass I’ve never seen before.”
“What’s that?” he asked, unable to resist stroking his hand down the length of her bare back, then resting his palm on her bottom.
“It’s a pair of very beautiful snails that are mating, and it is absolutely fascinating.”
As they watched, the snails touched and clung and caressed, moving slowly against one another in a sensual ballet of clasping, embracing, stroking, and fondling.
“That’s how I want to make love to you,” Lynx whispered.
“That’s how you do make love to me,” Jane whispered back.
“Am I that thorough?”
“You must be … you’ve
made another baby in me.”
Lynx looked stunned. “Janie … you shouldn’t be running about the forest, naked.”
She stood up and tossed her disheveled curls. “I will and I shall,” she vowed, laughing, “and don’t you dare tell me I can’t ride or swim!” She glided gracefully to the water’s edge, and looked back over her shoulder, knowing he would follow. She was breast-high in the pool when she heard his whoop of joy and turned, eager to watch him.
Suddenly, she saw a man emerge through the leaves and take careful aim at Lynx’s back with a longbow. “Lynx!” The scream of warning was torn from her throat as her eyes widened in horror.
Lynx spun around, just as a deadly arrow sped past him, barely missing him. He knew it found another target, however, as he heard Jane scream with pain. He recognized the hated Fitz-Waren, who instantly took flight, but Jane’s plight made immediate pursuit impossible. Lynx felt his gut knot with fear as he saw Jane disappear beneath the surface of the pool. He knew the arrow had pierced her body and desperately prayed that it had not taken her life.
Lynx plunged into the pond and dived down at the place he had seen her disappear, panic speeding his heartbeat and fueling his fear when he could not see her through the murky water. He came up for air, then dove again, desperately searching for his wounded wife. Finally, he saw her limp body floating near the bottom of the pool and knew at the very least she was unconscious.
His powerful arms closed about her and he thrust himself to the surface. As they broke the water, he could see the long arrow was embedded in her shoulder. Lynx knew such a wound should not be fatal, yet he could see that Jane was not breathing. He carried her from the water with all speed, snapped the shaft of the arrow off and laid her down gently. Then he bent and breathed his own life into her.
Jane began to cough and retch up water, then her eyes fluttered open. The minute she regained consciousness she was swept with a wave of pain that made her cry out in agony.
“Thank God, thank God,” Lynx murmured. “Jane, you must be brave while I get you back to the castle. I know it hurts, but you are going to be fine, sweetheart.” He pulled on his chausses and wrapped her in her discarded dress. His horse pawed the ground and snorted at the commotion, rolling its eyes, as Lynx firmly grasped its bridle and tried to calm it. The restive animal began to dance away from him, but he managed to gentle it while he mounted, clasping Jane in one powerful arm.
A Year and a Day Page 38
