The Border Lord and the Lady

by Bertrice Small

  “Why in the name of all that is holy did you tell her all of that?” Kier demanded of his father. “She was willing to accept my becoming laird. Why did you feel it incumbent upon yourself to say more, Da? Could you not let me court her gently and win her over?”

  “You’re laird of Glengorm now, Kier,” his father answered him. “And you’re past thirty. It’s time you were wed. And the sooner you wed, the sooner you can get your wife with child. Glengorm needs heirs. Win her over after the wedding.”

  “Father Ambrose will not marry us if she is not willing,” Kier said. “And do you think Cicely will be of a mind to be willing now?”

  “Get her to the altar by whatever means you must, Kier. Glengorm needs sons, and James Stewart is planning a northern expedition sooner than later. The Douglases will be expected to play their part in bringing down the lord of the isles,” Sir William told his son. “And woe unto those clans who did not march with the king.”

  “Christ’s balls!” Kier Douglas swore softly.

  “Aye,” his father agreed. “All most of us want to do is live peaceably, but kings are ambitious, and the men closest to them are ambitious as well. ’Tis all we can do to remain loyal and keep our own lands safe. But we owe James Stewart this service, Kier. You are laird of Glengorm by his sufferance, when he might have given it to another.”

  Sir William returned to his own home the following day. He did not see Cicely again, for she would not come forth from her chamber. But he cradled little Johanna in his arms before he departed, smiling down at the baby, pleased by her prettiness and obvious good health. “She’s bonny,” he said to his son. “Take good care of Ian’s lass, though ’tis you she’ll call her da.” Then, returning the baby to Orva, he departed.

  Kier Douglas watched his father go. Then he returned to the hall, where, to his surprise, Cicely was now sitting at her loom, weaving on a tapestry she had recently begun. “He’s gone,” Kier said to her.

  “I am not marrying you, my lord,” was her answer to him.

  “Aye, you are marrying me,” he responded. “We both have a duty to Glengorm. But I’m a reasonable man. I will give you the month of May to accustom yourself to the idea of a new husband. Speak to Mary Douglas and find a good wet nurse for Johanna. I am not of a mind to be denied my marital rights. We need a son and heir.”

  Cicely jumped up from her chair. “How dare you order me about! I am not your wife, and never will be. And my daughter will take her nourishment from my breasts, not from a stranger’s teat. I have nothing else to give her.”

  “You have your love,” he said. “If you will not speak to Mary Douglas then I will, Cicely. This is not a negotiation we are having. I would have taken my time and courted you properly had my father not spoken yesterday as he did. But it would seem neither of us has any time. The king is preparing to march north. The Douglases will be expected to march with him, which means I will have to go. This means we must be wed, and you must be bedded. Glengorm will have its heir!”

  “You expect much of me, my lord,” Cicely said angrily, “and I do not recall giving you permission to use my name!”

  “What would you have me call you then?” he snapped back at her.

  “My lady,” she told him loftily. “You may address me as ‘my lady.’ ”

  “Since you vow you will not be my lady, I will continue to call you Cicely,” he taunted her. He stepped forward to stand directly in front of her, and tipped her face up. “You have beautiful eyes, Cicely. Did Ian ever tell you what Glengorm means?” He didn’t wait for her answer. “It means blue-green. Glengorm is the blue-green glen. Blue-green like your eyes, Cicely.” Then he brushed her lips with his.

  She slapped him angrily. “Do not dare attempt to seduce me,” she hissed.

  He slapped her back immediately. “And do not raise your hand to me, madam,” Kier said in a tight voice. “We will wed, and I should prefer that we at least be friends. But if you wish an adversarial relationship I will be content to accommodate you, Cicely. But in June we will be wed. You had best accustom yourself to the idea.” Then he left her, striding determined from the hall.

  She was astounded. He had struck her. Kier Douglas was no gentleman; he was a barbarian. She would send to Jo for help. Aye, she would write her this very day and dispatch a messenger. She ran to her room. Orva was not there. She spent most of her time now with Johanna, and Cicely was grateful that she did. Orva had raised her. Together they would raise Johanna.

  Opening up her writing box, she chose a small piece of vellum. Then, dipping her quill in the tiny inkwell, she wrote:To Her Highness, Queen Joan of Scotland, from her most faithful servant, Cicely, lady of Glengorm: Beloved friend,

  I am writing in the hopes that you can aid me. Sir William Douglas has told me that I am to wed his son, the new laird of Glengorm. He has also said the king approves of this match and will return what remains of the dower my father provided for me to the new laird. I do not wish to remarry. But I do wish the return of my monies. Dearest Jo, if you could but convince the king of my desire to remain unwed, I should like nothing better than to return to your service. Please come to my aid!

  Your most faithful Ce-ce

  Cicely blotted the words on the paper, folded the document into a small square, and sealed it shut with red wax, pressing the signet ring her father had given her before she left England into the heated softness. Then, taking the message, she left the house, walking into the village to find Father Ambrose.

  The priest was working in his small garden. Looking up, he smiled at her, beckoning her forward. “Good morrow to you, my lady. How may I be of service to you?”

  “I want someone to take this message to the queen,” Cicely said, holding out the square of vellum. “Will you ask Frang for me?”

  “Why?” Father Ambrose asked quietly.

  Cicely sighed. “Because he will run to the new laird before he sends a man off,” she said. “I don’t want Kier Douglas knowing that I have sent to the queen for her aid. If you ask Frang he will do it without question.”

  “What have you written to Queen Joan?” the priest asked.

  “I have told her I do not wish to be coerced into marriage with this man, and that I would return to her service,” Cicely answered the cleric honestly. “If I do then Johanna will be raised in the queen’s household, which is much to her advantage.”

  The priest hid the smile that threatened to turn his mouth up. “I will send your message,” he told her. “But it is unlikely the queen will help you.”

  “Of course Jo will help me,” Cicely said with assurance.

  But the queen would not help her old friend. Pregnant with her third child, she was doing everything she could to ensure it was a son this time. She found that Cicely’s request irritated her, and said so to her husband. “What is the matter with her, Jamie? She is a widow with a child. Ce-ce must have a new husband, and by marrying this man she does not lose her status as lady of Glengorm. Her daughter will grow up in her own home. I do not understand this childish behavior. Cicely was never like this before. Is the man such a beast then?” She looked to her husband. “Tell me, Jamie, would Sir William give her to a wicked man just to retain Douglas lands?”

  “Of course not, sweetheart,” the king said reassuringly. “I have not met Sir William’s son, but he is certainly like his good father.” And he would do whatever he had to do to retain Douglas lands, the king thought, although he would not say it to his wife, who—please God and the Blessed Mother—was carrying a son this time. Nothing must upset his Joan. And especially not her old friend. “Write her back, my darling,” James Stewart said. “Remind her she has a duty to me, to you, and to the Douglases. She is to meekly accept this husband chosen for her, and give Glengorm a son.”

  “I will, Jamie!” the queen said, smiling adoringly at him. “I know Ce-ce will listen to me. She is newly widowed, and undoubtedly skittish about taking a new husband to her bed. She will get over it, I am certain. I shall write
her this day!”

  And I shall write our new laird, the king considered silently.

  The royal messenger arrived at Glengorm several days later. The new laird was surprised to find he carried messages for both himself and for Cicely. He called a serving maid to him, and handed her the folded and sealed parchment. “Take this to your lady,” he said. Then he opened the message embossed with the king’s seal, which he recognized.

  My lord, [the brief message began] I shall be going north soon, and while I expect you to send me some of your good Glengorm men with Sir William, you will be excused from this expedition. It is more important that you wed and produce an heir for your posterity. To this end you will remain on your lands until this result is achieved.

  It was signed quite clearly,

  James R.

  Kier Douglas was astounded. What had brought him such a royal command?

  In her chamber Cicely read with equal astonishment a brief message from her best friend. Her eyes filled with tears as she scanned the parchment.

  To Cicely, lady of Glengorm, from Joan, Scotland’s annointed queen,

  You will wed with Sir William’s son and do what is expected of you, Ce-ce. Do not try the king’s patience with this childish petulance. You are widowed; you must remarry for your own sake as well as that of my namesake, who is better off in her own home. Your dower is being returned in full. That I have convinced James to do for you without further ado. Pray that we both have sons soon. I send you my most tender affections, and hope to one day receive you again at court.

  Joan, Queen of Scotland

  Cicely laid the parchment aside. Her last hope of escaping this marriage was gone. She could hardly run away. There was Johanna to consider first and foremost. And to where could she run? Her father, if indeed he still lived, was frail, with a mad wife. And the queen would not have her back. Yet one good thing had come of it all. Her dower was being returned. Not just a portion of it, but all of it!

  Kier Douglas took that moment to step into her bedchamber. “What did you do?” he asked her in a hard voice. “What did you do that has brought us each a message from the king? I want the truth, Cicely, and I want it now!” He stood towering over her, his blue eyes blazing. “What have you done, madam?”

  Chapter 14

  “I but wrote to the queen,” Cicely told him. “We are friends of long standing. She wrote me back. Why are you angry, my lord? I understand from Orva, who brought me my letter, that you also received a message from the king. What did he want?” she asked innocently. “Are you being called to war, my lord?”

  “I have been ordered to wed you without further ado, and to remain on my lands until you have given me an heir,” he said through gritted teeth. “And what did the queen say to you, Cicely?” Kier was furious. Of course he intended wedding the woman before him. He knew what was involved, but he had hoped to make some sort of peace between them first. Now he didn’t know how he could manage that.

  It was all her doting father’s fault. Putting silly ideas in the girl’s head. Telling Cicely that she would be able to choose her own husband. It was ridiculous. Fathers or guardians were supposed to make the right matches for their female kin. And the women were supposed to obey. Of course, Cicely didn’t really get to choose with Ian. And now again she was being directed into a marriage not of her own choosing. And he was being forced to deal with it. “Well, madam, what did the queen say?” he repeated himself.

  “I am directed to wed you,” Cicely replied slowly, debating how much to tell him.

  “And?” The blue eyes bored into her.

  “Jo . . . the queen has convinced the king to restore my entire dower,” Cicely said. “Ian and I were going to split it, for he said he didn’t need it all.”

  “Ian loved you unconditionally,” Kier replied. “I do not even know if I like you. Your dower is mine as your husband.”

  “The house needs to be enlarged,” Cicely said. “I meant to use my half to do so. The bedchambers are small. We need a large master’s apartment, and below it a library.”

  “The house is big enough,” he responded stubbornly.

  “If we are to have these heirs that are expected of us, we need a larger bedchamber to share. Neither your chamber nor mine is big enough to contain a bed suitable for two people,” Cicely told him. “Of course, we could just couple in the stable!”

  “An intriguing idea, madam,” he said as he reached out and pulled her close. “I should enjoy putting you on your back in a darkened stall.” A single finger moved slowly across her lips. “Would you enjoy being taken on a pile of sweet-smelling hay, Cicely?” The blue eyes locked onto her own blue-green eyes. “Tell me what you want, for I am said to be proficient in the amatory arts.”

  For the life of her Cicely could not break his gaze or look away. Ian had never spoken to her like this. Nor had she felt such an intense aura of masculinity from him as she did from Kier. Ian had simply loved her. Now, faced with this cold, fierce man, Cicely was not quite certain what to do. He made the decision for them.

  One hand reached up to cup her head. Then his mouth came down on hers hard. His lips demanded everything from her, forcing her lips to part, his tongue driving between those soft lips to do battle with her tongue. At first Cicely attempted to elude that ravaging tongue, but at last, unable to, she let him stroke her tongue with his. Heat suffused her whole body, and she actually felt dizzy. Finally she managed to pull her head away from his. “Please,” she managed to grind out. “Please!”

  He nibbled at her lip and her face. “Please what?” He groaned. Christ’s wounds! His cock was hard and his balls hurt with his need for a woman. He either had to let her go now, or put her on her back. “We’re going to be wed June first,” he said, “and if you are carrying my bairn then, so much the better, Cicely.” He began to unlace her gown.

  Shocked by his words, she didn’t actually divine his intent until a moment later, when he yanked her gown down. “No!” she said as he lifted her from the pile of green fabric that now lay on the floor about her ankles. “We are not yet wed, my lord!” Blessed Mother! The bulge in his breeks was . . . was formidable. Ian’s cock had been large, but this was certainly larger. Did manhoods come in different sizes?

  “Aye!” he growled at her, and, turning, twisted the key in the lock of the chamber door. “The king says we must wed. The queen says we must wed. Yet you demur and consider the ways you may escape this obligation. I intend to be in your bed every night from now on, Cicely. And on the first day of the new month we will marry.”

  “Why now?” she demanded of him, trying to edge away, but to where?

  “Because kissing you has filled me with lustful thoughts,” he said wickedly. “And I mean to act on those thoughts. I might seek out one of our pretty serving girls, or some willing lass in the village, but I will not. You are to be my wife, and you shall be the only woman I couple with from this moment on. Now take off your chemise or I will rip it from you. Have you so many that you can afford to have one destroyed?” He began pulling his own garments off of his tall, lean body, and when he was naked he turned to face her once again.

  “You have not removed your chemise,” he said in a low, dark tone.

  “Get out of my chamber!” Cicely cried, her eyes going everywhere in the room but to him. “Get out!” She attempted to edge away from him.

  Reaching out, Kier Douglas’s big hand fastened itself in the round neck of her chemise and ripped. “If you wish, madam, I’ll have Father Ambrose marry us on the morrow, for I am certain he has the marriage contract all drawn up and ready.” He flung the two halves of the destroyed garment from him.

  Cicely shrieked, her hand frantically reaching for something, anything, to throw at him. But there was absolutely nothing.

  He backed her into a corner, reaching out to draw her into his arms. Their naked bodies touched. He smiled wolfishly at her gasp, taking her face between his two hands, looking down into her eyes. Her round breasts were soft a
gainst his smooth chest. Her belly and her firm thighs pressed against him. His cock pushed back against her. “In time,” he told her, kissing her mouth softly, “we may actually come to like each other, Cicely. For now, however, we have a duty, and we will do that duty.”

  “You are vile!” she spat at him. “Ian treated me with kindness.”

  “My cousin loved you. To him you were a prize worth having,” Kier told her. “But you and I have been matched by cruel circumstance, Cicely. We have been raised to do what must be done, and so we shall do it. Stop quarreling with me, and I will make love to you. Have you not missed a lover’s touch?”

  She hid her face in his shoulder, and he felt her tears on his skin. “I never thought to know another,” she said to him.

  “I expect you did not,” he replied. “But these are the borders, and women are widowed more times than not here. That is why it is so important that we produce a son for Glengorm. These are Douglas lands, and must remain so.”

  “Then I am nothing more than breeding stock to the Douglases,” Cicely said bitterly. She looked up at him now with bleak eyes.

  “For now, aye, you are,” Kier told her candidly. “But that could change one day.” He stroked her face with the back of his knuckles.

  “Is your speech always so direct?” she asked him softly.

  “Always,” he replied. “I will never lie to you, Cicely.” He tipped her face up and kissed her mouth softly, and as her lips parted willingly this time for him, he found her tongue again and stroked it slowly, sensuously, until he felt her begin to relax against him. He released her mouth and, taking her by the hand, led her to the bed.