The Border Trilogy

by Amanda Scott

  Susan looked doubtful but dared not question her mistress. She hurried out, and Mary Kate swiftly changed to riding dress. When Susan reappeared moments later, her mistress had already begun to pack a change of clothes into a straw basket, stuffing the articles in any which way in her haste. The maid helped fasten the lid, and Mary Kate snatched up the basket. Then, hurrying to the door, she spoke over her shoulder.

  “He’ll look for you, Susan. I shouted your name at him.”

  Susan shook her head with a wry smile. “Nay, mistress, he’ll think only of you once the lads below tell him that ye’ve gone. He’d not harm me, any gate, out o’ fear o’ doing an injury tae the bairn.”

  “Oh, I wish I were pregnant!” Mary Kate exclaimed with deep feeling. But she knew Susan was right. He’d not bother with a maidservant once he discovered his wife had fled the castle. He would be hot on her trail. She had no time to lose. Spurred on by the thought, she flew down the stairs to the yard, where she was relieved to see the thin, red-headed young groom leading Sesi and a bronze gelding from the stables. Geordie Elliot was still nowhere to be seen. The groom took the basket from her, regarding it curiously as he strapped it securely to his saddle.

  “Where be we headed, mistress?”

  The query caught her by surprise. Where would she go? The most she could hope for was to find a haven until her husband’s initial fury had burned itself out. The highlands beckoned, but she knew she couldn’t reach Speyside House before Douglas caught her. Besides, Duncan had warned her not to run to him. Darkness would fall soon. She wouldn’t heed that, but…She remembered Critchfield Manor, her aunt and uncle’s house south of Edinburgh on the Jedburgh Road.

  Mary Kate knew, for Douglas himself had told her, that she could ride directly east from Tornary to Jedburgh by following the road along the Teviot. Surely, from Jedburgh, it would be simple enough to ride north until she found the track leading to her uncle’s house, and since Douglas would expect her to go directly north toward the highlands, she might thus elude him. But she could reveal none of these thoughts to the waiting groom.

  Thinking quickly, she said in a vague tone, “Wild-flowers, we’ll ride just a short distance to gather wild-flowers. What is your name, lad?”

  “Gideon, mistress,” he said as he helped her to mount.

  “Well, Gideon, see if your horse is fast enough to catch me.” With that, she dug her spurs into Sesi’s flank and was away before the startled groom had gathered his wits to follow. Keeping the mare at a dangerous headlong gallop down the hill, Mary Kate did not slow until she had passed through the entry gates. Then she checked the mare only to look back and see that Gideon had followed, for she had no wish to make her journey without escort or change of clothing.

  He was there, the basket banging against the gelding’s flank as he urged his mount to the same fast pace in an effort to overtake her. She did not allow him to do so, however, until she had covered the two miles to the ford where the river road crossed from the north bank to the south. Noting then that the road did not continue right along the riverbank but led down into a grassy dale and then up a long hill, she realized with a sinking feeling that it would be some time before they would be out of sight of the crossing.

  “Mistress, wait!” Gideon shouted. When, impatiently, she slowed Sesi to a walk and let him draw alongside, he said breathlessly, “This be more than a short distance, m’lady. Do the master know where we be a-going?”

  Mary Kate resorted to a display of temper. “Of course he knows, hodpoll. Come on, we must make speed.”

  Greatly daring, he protested again. “We’ll no get far at this wicked pace, mistress.”

  In answer, Mary Kate spurred Sesi on again, forcing him to follow. She knew her sharp response had probably done nothing to alleviate any fear Gideon might have had of Douglas’s wrath, but she knew, too, that the lad would not desert her. Although he must suspect by now that she was running away, there was no way by which he could compel her to return to the castle, and whatever happened, it would go far worse for him later if he were to abandon her now on the open road.

  They had traveled a mile from the river crossing and were approaching the crest of the hill at a brisk trot when Mary Kate looked back over her shoulder and uttered a cry of dismay. Even at the distance yet between them, she had no difficulty recognizing either the huge chestnut stallion in full career behind her or his lashing, spurring rider.

  At her cry, Gideon had also glanced back, and now he shot her a look of troubled reproach, but she forced herself to ignore him and leaned into the mare’s silver mane, urging her to a gallop. When next she looked back, she noted that the hapless groom had reined in at the side of the road and that Valiant, put to his most fiery pace, had already passed him and was steadily closing the distance. Appalled, she spurred desperately and used her whip, but Sesi was tired. It was no use. First the thunder of hoofbeats behind her became almost deafening. Then, just as she glimpsed the foam-flecked head of the stallion beside her, a large, leather-gloved hand shot out to seize the mare’s bridle and the two horses were wrenched to a plunging halt.

  Determined that he should mistake her fear for dignity, Mary Kate sat stiffly, looking straight ahead as she willed her trembling to cease and waited for Douglas to speak. When he said nothing, she dared a glance at his face, but what she saw was not encouraging, for his mouth was a hard slit and his eyes were ablaze with fury.

  He spoke not one word, did not even look at her, but turned both horses and, his grip still tight on Sesi’s bridle, guided her back down the road toward the waiting groom and the fast-approaching escort.

  Pausing in front of the wretched Gideon, Douglas said crisply, “Go to Elliot directly upon our return, lad. He will wish to speak with you.” Gideon nodded, his thin face pale, his eyes downcast.

  Once Douglas had led Sesi past the other men, all of whom kept their expressions carefully blank and their eyes fixed upon the road ahead, he released the mare’s bridle.

  Squaring her shoulders, Mary Kate gathered her courage to speak. “Please, Adam…” She had to pause to clear her throat, for it felt as though she had swallowed all the dust of the road. “Please do not punish Gideon. None of this was his fault.”

  “I know whose fault it was,” he answered curtly, still without looking at her. “Elliot may flay him with his tongue, but Gideon will not be flogged.”

  The emphasis in his statement sent icy fingers of fear racing up and down her spine, causing her muscles to contract sharply in anticipation of his intent. She squirmed uncomfortably on her saddle, and since she still found it hard to swallow, let alone to speak, the rest of the ride was accomplished in silence.

  When they reached the stable yard, Douglas dismounted and lifted her from the mare’s back. Her knees were weak enough to make her grateful when he retained his powerful grip on her arm; however, she had time to do no more than to note the gaping stares of the men in the yard before he propelled her relentlessly through the postern door, up the winding stair, along the gallery, and through the anteroom to her bedchamber. Flicking the latch, he kicked the door open and, thrusting her inside, slammed it shut again behind him.

  “Now,” he snapped, releasing her at last, “if there is an explanation for this idiocy, madam, I should like very much to hear it.”

  Her own temper roused by such rough treatment, she rounded on him. “How dare you! How dare you humiliate me in front of those men! And how dare you flaunt your…your…” She faltered, confused, because she couldn’t think what to call Susan, whom she liked. “Your Susan Kennedys,” she finished lamely.

  “What affair of yours is Susan Kennedy?” he demanded.

  “Oh, if that isn’t just like you or any other man,” she retorted scornfully. “Trying to make me wear the guilt for a sin you committed.”

  She would have gone on, but he interrupted, saying icily, “That will do, Mary Kate. We are discussing your conduct, not mine, and things that occurred before our marriage do not con
cern you in the least. I am still waiting for an explanation, if there is one, for your witless escapade today.” Thumbs hooked in his wide belt, lips compressed, eyes narrowed, he glared down at her, clearly not willing to wait long.

  She opened her mouth once or twice, but no words would come. Her flash of temper was over, leaving only fear of what he meant to do to her in its wake. His capabilities were still unknown to her, and while he towered above her, filling her mind with his size and his fury, thoughts tumbled over one another in her head without organization or logic—senseless, useless thoughts.

  Douglas was impatient. “Have you naught to say in your own defense?”

  She clenched her hands against her skirt, struggling for composure, for something sensible, even cutting, to say to him, holding back tears of frustration with a mighty effort.

  “Well, madam?”

  “I was so angry,” she said at last, “and then so…so—” She broke off, not wishing to admit her fear to him. But when he still said nothing, she muttered, “I suppose I was a little frightened.” When his only response was to frown more heavily, she added in a rush, “In truth, sir, I panicked, though I know I was foolish to do so.” She stepped back. “Please, Adam—”

  “God’s blood,” he swore. “‘Please, Adam,’ will avail you naught. Did I not warn you? Did I not forbid you to indulge that highland temper of yours before the public eye? Did I not?”

  She nodded, feeling small.

  “In front of the whole village, madam! Aye,” he insisted uncompromisingly when she looked up in protest. “Your insolent taunt brought every man, woman, and child within hearing out into the road. Had you but turned again, you might have appreciated your audience. They reveled in your daring.” He was shouting at her now. “The tale will have spread through Teviotdale by now and will no doubt be entertaining all Edinburgh by morning!”

  “Oh, no,” she moaned wretchedly.

  “Oh, yes!” he snapped, his voice still loud enough, she was sure, to be heard in the stable yard. “’Tis a fine way for my wife to behave. I’d not be surprised if Jamie himself greets me with sympathy or—may heaven help you—with laughter. But you couldn’t content yourself with that alone. Nay, you compounded your insolence by leaving the safety of this castle, attended only by a mindless, unarmed flunkey, in direct defiance of my orders, to take a road leading into the wildest, most danger-ridden border country imaginable.” He stood there, his feet planted wide, his thumbs still in his belt, leaning forward belligerently now and again as though to punctuate his words. His voice hardened ominously when he said, “Madam, your folly astounds me. Where in the name of Christ Almighty did you propose to spend the night?”

  “I don’t know where!” she retorted, her temper flashing anew in response to his relentless chiding. But when he took a step toward her, she recognized her error immediately, and hoping to mitigate his increasing wrath, she said quickly and with as much dignity as she could muster, “Adam, I’m sorry. I know what I did was foolish. I just didn’t think.”

  She wished he wouldn’t glower at her so fiercely, for her leg bones felt as though they were turning to porridge. She wished, too, that she could maintain her spurious dignity, but the more certain she became that any attempt to defend her actions must prove futile, the more she felt a need to defend herself. “Truly, Adam,” she said, speaking even more rapidly than before, “I wanted only to pay you back for leaving me alone so long, for not having had sufficient regard for my feelings to warn me about Susan before I discovered her for myself, and…and for making me walk home that time.” She spread her hands. “I just didn’t think, sir, about the rest.”

  Douglas sighed. “I know that, lass.” His voice was quieter, more controlled, and she felt a brief surge of hope. “If that damned horse I took from the smithy hadn’t gone lame, I’d have caught you on the road, but I snatched the first mount I saw, and when Hamilton, the smith, shouted at me, I paid him no heed. No doubt he tried to tell me the stupid nag had a loose shoe, for he threw one near the MacKenzie croft. They keep no horses, so I walked for half an hour before I found another, and a scrofulous nag it was. I had plenty of time to think, lass, and I thought about all those things. I ought to have told you about Susan, but I hadn’t seen her and never gave her a thought. I couldn’t send her away. She’s carrying my bairn.” He paused. “Had you been here when I got back, I might have bellowed at you or shaken you senseless for subjecting me to that scene in the village. I doubt I’d have done more.”

  He paused again, taking a deep breath as though to draw strength, his attitude one of reluctant determination. When he spoke. again, his voice was stern. “Running away like you did was more than foolish, Mary Kate. Gideon was not armed, and nightfall was less than an hour away. ’Tis nearly dark now. You admit that you were frightened, and perhaps you had cause to be, but you’d have had greater cause had a raiding party found you before I did. You might have been killed. My orders are never given without reason, lass, and conditions being what they are in the borders just now, I cannot afford to tolerate your defiance. You need a sharp lesson for this day’s work.” He began to unfasten his belt.

  Mary Kate backed away. “Wh-what are you going to do?”

  “You know very well what I have to do,” he retorted. “God knows I don’t like it, but your own father would do the same. I know of no other way to be certain not only that you comprehend the gravity of your offense but that you will not dare to repeat it. Come here.”

  Mary Kate backed away another step, placing her hands protectively behind her and speaking quickly. “You are right, Adam, I didn’t understand before. However, I do now, so—”

  “Come here to me,” he ordered inflexibly. “The sooner we begin, the sooner it will be done.”

  She shook her head stubbornly, though she knew there was no way to avoid what was coming. He was her husband, and here in his own home there was no higher authority to whom she might appeal. Had her own father been present, he could not have stopped him. Not, she thought bitterly, that Duncan would have tried. Douglas was right about that. Her father would say she was merely coming by her just deserts if only in that she ought to have guarded her temper and not let it carry her behavior beyond what Douglas would tolerate. But inevitable or not, she could not submit herself meekly to Douglas’s discipline. She stayed where she was.

  “Very well,” he said grimly, starting toward her, “but you will wish you had made this easier on yourself.”

  Mary Kate backed away hastily, putting out a hand in a brief defensive gesture only to jerk it back again when she came up sharply against the wall. There was nowhere else to go. Closing her eyes, she straightened and waited for Douglas’s hand to descend like an avenging Fury upon her shoulder.

  Standing there, she looked small, defenseless, and delicate, and as Douglas reached for her, he hesitated, for once uncertain both of himself and of his duty. No sound could be heard in the room except for their breathing, his even and controlled, hers ragged. A muscle twitched in his jaw when at last he squared his shoulders and grasped her left arm, pulling her toward him. Then, as he raised the heavy belt, an expression of distaste, even repugnance, flickered across his face. With a growl, he flung the belt aside.

  Mary Kate opened her eyes with a sigh, but her relief was premature, for before she realized what he was doing, he had sat down on the nearest stool and she found herself draped helplessly across his knee, her skirts flung over her head, muffling the sound of the hard smacks that followed. He did not spare her, and the mortifying punishment seemed to go on forever, but at last he stopped, resting his big hand upon her bare bottom for a long moment. When she wriggled indignantly, instead of removing his hand, he began to stroke her gently but firmly enough to keep her where she was.

  She stiffened, furious, swallowing her sobs and wishing she dared speak so that she might demand to know if he thought he would cool the flames or rub away the redness by stroking her, or if he was merely bent upon extracting the full
measure of her punishment by continuing to humiliate her. But she knew she would not be able to talk without sobbing, and she would not give him the satisfaction of knowing he had hurt her, for she was determined to retain the last shreds of her dignity. When she squirmed again, he set her back upon her feet.

  Yanking her skirts into place, she glared at him. Although the burning sensation in her bottom was rapidly receding, the humiliation she felt was worse than anything she had ever felt after one of Duncan’s energetic thrashings, and she knew her cheeks must be as red as her bottom for they were certainly as hot. The awareness of what she must look like stirred her volatile temper yet again.

  “You’ll pay for this, Douglas,” she muttered, unconsciously rubbing her backside. “I am a married lady, not a child, and though I have angered you by acting hastily and without thought, you might at least have made an attempt to understand that I have not been bred to the sort of blind submission you borderers expect from your wives.”

  Amusement had glinted deep in his eyes with her first sentence and the gesture that had accompanied it, but that amusement faded as she went on, and when she stopped to draw breath, his expression was unreadable. His tone was flat when he said, “You think that I have acted hastily, that I have treated you like a child?”

  “Aye.” Her glare challenged him to contradict her.

  “Damn it, wench,” he growled then, getting to his feet, “you don’t know when to leave well enough alone.”

  She couldn’t decide this time whether his anger was directed at her or at himself, but she had little time to consider the matter before he scooped her up into his arms and carried her to the bed, ignoring her sharp exclamation of dismay.

  Silently Douglas laid her down and methodically stripped her of her clothing. Anger still glittered in his eyes, and when she moved to touch him, he stopped her, telling her curtly to lie still.

  Wide-eyed, she obeyed him. By speaking to him as she had, she had meant only to show him that he had not cowed her completely, but there had been an exhilarating sense of power the moment she saw the fury leap again to his eyes, when she had realized how easily she could stir his temper. Just before he scooped her up it occurred to her to wonder if perhaps she had unleashed more anger than she could handle, and for a moment she feared that she would end up across his knee again, even that he might decide to use his belt, after all.