Anice's Bargain

by Madeline Martin

  Anice’s fingers stroked a gentle, soothing caress over the scar, as if doing so might erase it from his skin. “Though you attempted to steal from him, he still saved you?”

  James nodded. “He saw good in me, he said.” The familiar tightness ached in his chest, the one that came from being trusted so implicitly. “He’d been too far to aid his son as he’d been locked in battle himself, but he witnessed the entirety of…what I’d done. He kept me in his castle for the two months it took me to recover, to protect me from any who might have seen me kill my own man.”

  “He sounds very honorable.” Anice’s fingers stopped their thoughtful glide over his skin. “Who was he?”

  “The Earl of Bastionbury. And, aye, he is a verra good man.” James nodded. “He showed me that there are ways to live that dinna involve stealing or ransom. Land that could be tilled, the bounty sold. My people could have a life of honesty with hard work.”

  A smile whispered over Anice’s lips in recognition. “Lord Bastionbury is a good man.” The ghost of the smile disappeared. “That is why our betrothal was so attractive to you, then. For the land.”

  James caressed her face and tried to ignore the hurt shimmering deep in the blue depths of her crystal eyes. “Ye’re more than just land and wealth to me, Anice.” He cradled her cheek against his palm. “Ye’re hope.”

  17

  Anice’s stomach dropped with James’s declaration.

  If she was his hope, and Leila had declared their marriage would be a failure, then James’s well-meaning intentions for his people would not hold promise.

  Anice did not tell him as much while he held her in the protection of his large arms, nor did she bring it up again the following day as their belongings were packed into a waiting carriage. Most of their necessities had already been delivered to Caldrick Castle in Carlisle, and the Graham men would follow after Anice and James’s arrival.

  What lay only moments ahead was what she’d been dreading most: leaving her family. It had been easy to put from her mind over the past weeks, when her father and sisters were at her side—the same as they had always been. But now, with the cart loaded and the horses saddled, the time had come to face the most difficult part of her marriage.

  James put a hand to her shoulder in a gesture both intimate and comforting. “We can come to visit any time ye like.”

  Anice nodded and tried to swallow the knot forming in her throat as she walked into the bailey where her family waited with strained expressions. She’d already said her goodbyes to the servants, and had received gifts of their affection upon doing so: a basket of honey pastries from Nan, a small Bible from Bernard, and a very large pot of the sweet-smelling balm from Isla, who gave a flash of a wicked grin with her white teeth when she handed it over.

  Leila broke from the clustered line of their family and threw her small arms around Anice. As if knowing what was happening, Piquette broke from Anice’s side and made his way to the sisters, bumping his large body against their legs.

  “I didn’t mean what I said.” Leila’s large eyes filled with tears.

  Anice knelt, securing the embrace more tightly with her youngest sister.

  “I thought I saw…” Leila shook her head. “I’ve made this wrong and it’s not meant to be that way.” She buried her head against Anice’s shoulder and sobbed.

  “Don’t think on it any further, Lamb.” Anice smoothed a hand down Leila’s dark, glossy hair. “You can visit once we’re settled, and James has already said we’ll return to Werrick often.”

  “I’m sorry,” Leila whimpered.

  Anice pressed a kiss to Leila’s warm brow. “Do not think on it again, my sweet sister. Shush now.”

  Leila clamped her lips together and nodded. She knew the false assurance for what it was, despite Anice’s insistence. It was far too difficult to lie to the girl who always seemed to know better, even if it had been said for the child’s own good. Anice got to her feet and touched Leila’s solemn face. It was still as preciously soft as it had been when she was a babe.

  Catriona was next, with Geordie at her back like a shadow, as the lad always was. Her bow was slung over her shoulder, as much a part of her as her windblown curls. What was usually a bright smile on her comely face was now grave, and her eyes sparkled not with joy, but with tears.

  “I will come visit you any time you need me.” Cat gave Anice a fierce hug, all her exuberance squeezed out into that one embrace. “Even if Papa says I can’t go.” This statement was followed by the mischievous grin Anice knew too well.

  Anice tucked back a lock of Cat’s golden hair into her braid. “Don’t go getting into trouble on my account. You’ll see me often enough. I’m not so very far away.”

  Cat nodded and the stubborn lock sprang free from where Anice had secured it.

  “Geordie,” Anice addressed the lad who had been squire to Sir Richard.

  The boy leapt to attention like a soldier ready for battle.

  “I wish you the best in finding a new charge to train you to knighthood,” she said. “I know you will excel.” And he would, with the ferocity of his determination. She gave him a hug, this boy who was nearly a man, who had been raised alongside her and her sisters. “Take good care of Cat.”

  “I swear it on my life.” And he meant it too. Not only in the fortitude of his words, but in the tender, longing way he regarded Cat, whose sole attention was fixed on Anice.

  Next came Ella with a small rabbit tucked in the palm of her hand, most likely an injured little beast she’d found in the forest. She cradled it against her body and embraced Anice with care so as not to crush it.

  “Mind you stay safe,” Anice cautioned.

  Ella nodded, but Anice knew it wouldn’t do any good. The girl would be up in a tree by sundown. The melancholy cast in her gaze said as much.

  “I wish…” Ella blinked back tears. “I wish you could have married for love,” she whispered.

  Anice pulled her sister into another gentle embrace. “We are safe. That is what matters most.”

  Next came Marin. Bran removed the arm slung around his wife’s waist and she came forward.

  “I would offer my assistance with setting up the household, but I know you are already aware of what you are doing.” Marin stroked a hand over Anice’s hair. “You’ve done such a lovely job with Werrick Castle, and you were so brave in how you kept everyone safe. I’m so very proud of you.”

  The words washed over Anice and made her chest swell. She hugged her older sister close.

  “You will do very well, Anice,” Marin said softly in her sister’s ear. “And if I may be so bold as to state, I do believe your husband may be in love.”

  Anice snapped her head up. “With me?”

  “Of course, you.” Marin laughed and glanced to James who lingered several steps away, his gaze fixed on them with a light smile curving one side of his mouth. Having been caught staring, he quickly jerked his attention away and turned to speak with his father.

  Marin released Anice and returned to Bran. He nodded in her direction. “I’m glad Drake is coming with ye.” His stare toward James was not as kind as Marin’s had been. “I dinna trust a Graham with my life, and certainly no’ with yers.”

  In truth, Anice was glad Drake would be joining them as well. If nothing else for a familiar face from home.

  And last, finally, came Papa.

  “My beautiful daughter.” He opened his arms.

  The endearment of him calling her beautiful did not rankle her, not when it was said with such obvious affection. She stepped into his arms, into the embrace of the familiar scent of her father, leather and horses and a subtle hint of clean herbs.

  “You’ve made a great sacrifice on behalf of our family.” He said this quietly in her ear and then drew back. “I’m sorry I did not appreciate what you’d done before now.”

  Ah, so he had spoken with Marin. Or rather, Marin had most likely spoken with him.

  “Thank you, Papa.” Anic
e gave him a kiss on the cheek, as she’d always done since she was a girl.

  The crinkles at her father’s eyes deepened and concern showed in the deep blue depths. “Be safe, Anice.”

  “Of that you need not worry.” Anice fingered the new throwing dagger at her belt. “You’ve seen us properly trained.”

  “Then I give you my blessing to go.” He stepped back. “The door to Werrick Castle is always open to you, Daughter.”

  The tension returned to Anice’s throat. This was it, then. The end of her life at Werrick Castle. Piquette was led into the back of a waiting cart where a soft bed of clean rushes awaited him. It had been decided that although Piquette had once belonged to all the daughters, he now had become solely Anice’s.

  James and his father were already waiting on their horses, having mounted them while Anice spoke with her father. Peter led her to her own steed and assisted her onto the palfrey’s back.

  “Best of luck to ye, my lady.” The Master of the Horse lowered his head in respect and backed away.

  James trotted to her side and narrowed his eyes in Drake’s direction. “Are ye ready?”

  Anice nodded and tried to swallow down the hard ball of emotion lodged in the back of her throat.

  “Is he coming with us then?” James didn’t need to specify that he was referring to Drake.

  “I did marry our greatest enemy.”

  James grunted; his mood surlier than she’d seen as of yet. Any concerns, however, fell away as they made their way through the gates of Werrick Castle. She passed without turning back to look at those she loved, for she feared doing so would sap her strength to depart.

  She was not only leaving behind her family and friends, she was leaving behind the girl she had been to become a wife, mistress of her own castle. Contrary to her reassurances to Leila, the girl’s words echoed in Anice’s mind.

  It will be a failure.

  She could only hope that in saving her people, she had not lost herself.

  James was familiar with Caldrick Castle and the rich land surrounding it. He’d done a raid or two to it in his day, but never had he dreamed he would be its lord.

  Anice did not speak on the journey to Carlisle, her expression somber despite the smile she’d woken up with. How he’d loved having her in his arms when he woke, the quiet joy shining in her eyes, the sensual roll of her hips against his, hungry with lust.

  The thought made his groin tighten. He shifted in his saddle and focused on the great castle rising in front of them. A cockstand wouldn’t do now. Not when he was about to take ownership of the castle.

  All it took was regarding Drake, who rode irritatingly close to Anice, to quell James’s rising desire. The warrior sat straight and perfect in his saddle, his handsome face serious with his task of protection. The cur.

  Of all the warriors in Werrick, of course it was Drake who had come.

  Laird Graham edged his horse closer to James. “I see the bonny man came too, eh?”

  James grunted.

  “Ye watch yerself with such a fine wife, lad. Ye’re no’ as pretty as that man.” His father gave a wheezing laugh. “That’s the thing about the loveliest ladies. They’re lusty. Eager to spread their legs for men to get what they want.”

  “That is my wife,” James snarled in warning.

  Laird Graham shrugged, nonplussed. “Mind her. Or he might do it for ye.” He nodded his grizzled head in Drake’s direction.

  Were the old man not so frail, James would have been tempted to knock him hard enough to throw him from the horse. Damn the old goat for being so bloody weak.

  James said nothing more to his father, but rode at a faster pace the aging laird could not match in his fragile condition.

  The lingering warmth of James and Anice’s wedding night cooled, as had the heat in his groin. He would not be a cuckold. He would not be subjected to what he had with Morna. Not again.

  He gritted his teeth as he entered the courtyard and forced his thoughts from Drake. Instead, he pushed them to the castle. His castle. Powerful, imposing, the walls strong with stone gone dark with the passing of time. The servants waited in an anxious line to greet their new master.

  James jumped from his horse and strode toward Anice to help her dismount. Drake had the good sense to step back and let James have the honor.

  Anice’s smile at his approach was small, barely a lift at either side of her lips, as though mayhap the ride had been difficult for her.

  “Anice.” He spoke in a gentle tone and lifted his hand, indicating his intent to assist her from her horse.

  She placed her icy hand in his and allowed him to aid her from her horse. He tenderly touched her cheek. “Are ye well, lass?”

  She drew in a hard, pained breath and nodded resolutely. “Aye.”

  He took her freezing hands between his and chafed them together several times to warm them, then offered his arm. She leaned heavier on him than ever before.

  It struck him suddenly then, what she had given up that day for his dream. She had left her home and her family, her entire world upheaved. The marriage had bestowed James with great wealth and opportunity. But for Anice, the union had cost her everything.

  He knew her to be strong, but in this moment, she seemed so very delicate that it pulled at his heart. This woman and what she did to him: a cockstand one moment, raging jealousy the next, and now intense tenderness and affection.

  His wife might very well be the death of him.

  A young man stepped forward. The lump in his skinny neck was overly pronounced and the legs jutting from the tunic were as thin as that of a stork. “Welcome to Caldrick Castle. I’m Engelbart, your steward.” The lad looked like a hearty wind could take him off.

  James hesitated. This was the part of castle ownership he had been dreading. The pomp of the wealthy and how he might best behave in such situations as handling servants and the like.

  “Thank you, Engelbart,” Anice said at his side. “We should like to meet the staff.”

  James tossed her a grateful look, which she answered with a light squeeze at his forearm. The color had somewhat returned to her cheeks. A good sign to be sure.

  “Of course.” Engelbart bowed from the waist and nearly bent in half.

  The Englishman proceeded to recite a string of names James would have no hope of remembering at a later date. They were near the end when a sour-faced old man glared at them, drawing James’s attention from Engelbart.

  The corners of the man’s mouth tucked down in an ugly sneer. “I won’t offer my fealty to you.”

  Anger welled up like a flame within James, the quickly lit temper he’d struggled with for the better part of his life. It would be so easy to crush this man, both in body and spirit, to make an example of him. However, the lessons he learned from the Earl of Bastionbury entered James’s mind like a splash of cool water, dousing the flames of his rage.

  “Why is that?” James asked.

  The man’s head cocked back in surprise. “Well, you’re a Scot.”

  “Aye.” James lifted his hands in a helpless gesture. “There’s no denying I’m Scottish. But I’m a fair Scot who intends to see the land well-tended and the people of Carlisle cared for.”

  Anice put a hand to the man’s shoulder. The curmudgeon’s bitter expression smoothed into one of awe as he gazed on Anice.

  “The Earl of Werrick has entrusted James Graham with this land.” Anice glanced at James and gave a shy smile. “I can vouch for my husband’s character. You’d do well to give your new master the respect he is due. Better a Scot who is fair than an English lord who would have had you beaten for the sharpness of your tongue.”

  The words were said with gentleness, but there was an authoritative note that dismissed any opportunity for argument.

  Anice removed her hand from the man’s shoulder. “Are we understood?”

  A slow, stupid smile spread over his weathered lips. “Aye, my lady.”

  While James appreciated Anice’s
intervention, he vowed Anice would not fight his battles for him. This was his land to tend. He would see it well-run.

  In a brief meeting with Engelbart later, James discovered his tasks to be great, indeed. The land was in disarray. Without the earl’s ability to devote his full attention to Caldrick, it was overmuch for Engelbart to keep up with. It struck James that Engelbart most likely had not been fully forthright with Werrick in their communication on his ability to see to everything within Carlisle.

  The lands were overrun with reivers, livestock was constantly being carted off, and the few bits of land being properly farmed were often destroyed. It was madness.

  And it was a world James knew better than the back of his hand.

  This was the opportunity he had wanted. Now he only needed to find the solution to put it all to rights.

  18

  Anice had seen to her duties within the keep upon arrival. James had suggested she rest first, but she knew laying down would not assuage the melancholy shrouding her; it would simply give it the space and solitude to smother her.

  Once she started, she did not stop, working nonstop for the first sennight of their arrival, seeing to the servants and getting the household in order.

  Much of her time was spent going about the halls of the large, dark castle with Piquette at her side. The massive dog drew many wary looks, but Piquette did not seem to notice as he loped faithfully in her shadow. He paused only to sniff about from time to time and once ate something wet that she’d promptly dug free from his clenched mouth.

  The cook was a burly man named Dicken who rolled out dough with the same thick-handed heaviness he used to hack apart a leg of venison. She knew because she’d seen him do both tasks in the span of time she met with him. It was with great relief, however, that she noticed he washed his hands in between. His declaration that he would be making meat pasties for supper Wednesday, however, immediately caught at her heart and yanked it back to Werrick.