The Border Lord and the Lady (34 page)

“Aye!” she said. “But I want to kiss you, and I want to see your face when I pleasure you, my lord.” Her hips pressed against his belly tauntingly.

“Then do what I tell you without question,” he instructed her, withdrawing himself from her and quickly turning her onto her back. “Wrap your legs about me, ladyfaire,” he said, and when she did he plugged her with his hard, steaming cock as he pulled her gown open so he might bury his face between her breasts. “Aye, that is better,” he said. Then, lifting his head slightly, he clamped his lips about one of her nipples.

Cicely squealed as his tongue encircled the nipple until it was so stiff she thought one more sweep of his tongue would cause it to snap off. His teeth grazed the sensitive flesh, and then he sucked hard on her breast until Cicely was moaning with the excitement she felt. When he transferred his attentions to her other breast Cicely thought she would expire from the fire he was kindling within her.

But then, having roused the second breast, he began to lick her torso with his tongue. The tongue probed beneath her breasts. It
swept slowly, slowly across her warm, smooth flesh, sending tingles of heat down her spine. Raising his head, he leaned forward and began to kiss her mouth with slow, hot kisses that left her breathless. His tongue found hers, fenced with it, sucked it sensuously, subdued it.

Cicely couldn’t move, she was so weak with her own desire. Her entire body felt boneless, though her raised legs clutched at his torso. When he began to move again within her she sighed a long sigh. She wanted to cling to him, but he raised her two arms above her head, one hand holding them prisoner as he pumped and pumped and pumped himself within her. It was as if he wanted to subdue her totally, and would not be content until he did.

“Ian!”
she whispered to him.

“Say nothing,” he growled. “I would hear only the sounds of your pleasure, ladyfaire.” Then he fucked her harder and deeper than he ever had before.

Cicely suddenly realized that for the first time she had no control at all over her body. It absorbed his lust and begged for more. Her breath came in short, fierce pants. Her head spun as she found herself climbing, climbing, and then as quickly plunging down into a warm pool of heated desire as stars exploded behind her tightly closed eyes. Whatever was happening, she didn’t want it to end. She screamed softly as she peaked, and realized that what had been was even now draining away as his love juices spurted within her body to fill her with his seed.

“I love you so damned much,” he groaned into her tousled hair.

“I love you, my bold border lord,” she responded. “Do you think we have made a child?” Her legs fell away from him, and, moving away from her, he reached out to pull her to a seated position so she might recover herself. A brief wave of dizziness overcame her. Cicely let it subside, then drew her skirts down modestly and tried to straighten her hair. “We have never before made love of an afternoon, nor have you had your pleasure of me outside of our bedchamber,” she remarked.

He chuckled. “I saw you in the hall at your tapestry, and you looked so delicious I found myself wanting you,” he told her. “Aye, we have surely made a bairn from this day’s work, for I believe you have drained me of all of my seed, my sweet ladyfaire.” Then he kissed her mouth again.

But despite his love and all of his reassurances, the lack of her dower kept nagging at Cicely. It wasn’t right that the Gordons had been given a portion of it, nor that the king retained the remainder. Oddly, she did not begrudge the queen’s cousin Beth Williams whatever James Stewart had taken from Cicely to add to the girl’s dower. Beth was a sweet-natured girl who would be a good wife to Fairlea. In truth she was the perfect wife for him, because she had fallen in love with him. And in time that laird would come to realize the treasure he had in Beth Williams.
If a bit more gold had been all that was needed to soothe Andrew Gordon’s pride over what had happened and assure the happiness of the queen’s cousin,
Cicely thought,
I would have given it to her myself.

But she hadn’t. And seeing the need at Glengorm for her monies, Cicely fretted more and more. True, the king had promised he would return her dower when the queen birthed a son, but Cicely didn’t want to wait. She would write to her father and tell him what had happened. Hopefully he would aid her. And she would send her letter by one of the Douglas men-at-arms so her father would receive her message quickly.

Ian was not pleased by her plan at all. “Why can you not wait until the queen has her bairn? It’s sure to be a son this time, and the queen will see the king keeps his word to you, ladyfaire.”

“The king has four sisters,” Cicely reminded her husband. “If Jo births another daughter I will never see my dower again. These are not James Stewart’s monies, my lord. He did not promise me a dower. My father, the Earl of Leighton, dowered me. He deposited my dower with a reputable goldsmith. The king took it, and I want it back!”

The laird shrugged. He would not prevent her from corresponding
with her father. She was unhappy enough at the lack of her dower, and perhaps a message from her father would calm her. He was certainly not going to replace the monies he had put aside for her. He had other children to consider, especially Cicely’s half sister. “I’ll send Fergus to carry your letter, and await a reply,” he said to his wife. “Will that suit you?”

She flung her arms about his neck. “I knew you would come to understand!” And she kissed him enthusiastically.

He didn’t understand, but if it made her happy to think he did, then so much the better, the laird thought to himself. He sent for his younger brother.

“How would you like to take a little ride?” he asked Fergus.

“How far?” his brother demanded, already suspicious.

“England,” Ian answered.

“England is just over the border,” Fergus said dryly.

“To Leighton, Cicely’s family home,” the laird responded. “She is sending to her father regarding her dower. Now, I know he’s not going to restore what the king took, but if it will make her happy to write to her father about it and receive his counsel in the matter, then I cannot complain.”

Fergus nodded. “Actually he might be able to help, although I will agree with you that he’ll not replace what James Stewart stole.”

“Watch your mouth!” the laird cautioned his younger brother.

“Well, he did,” Fergus retorted. “The money wasn’t his. It was Cicely’s father’s until she wed, and then it should have been yours. Aye, I’ll take her message to her da.”

Cicely wrote to her father explaining how the king had seized her dower and used it for his own purposes. That the queen had gotten him to agree to restore what remained when she birthed her son.
But what if she does not have a son?
Cicely wrote.
What am I to do, Papa? Ian says it does not matter to him, for he loves me, but it matters to me. This lack has made me feel worthless. Please tell me what I should do.
She then went on to tell him of her life at Glengorm, and of how happy she
was. When she had finished she folded the parchment and sealed it, pressing the little signet with the Leighton coat of arms into the hot wax. And the next morning Fergus Douglas departed for England.

When he returned to Glengorm just over a month later he had an unhappy tale to tell them as they gathered in the great hall of the house. Cicely’s half sister, Catherine, had died the previous winter, just after her second birthday. Cicely’s stepmother, Luciana, had lost her reason, although at first no one realized it, given her normally volatile nature. She had attempted to poison her husband, Cicely’s father, but fortunately Donna Clara had learned of it before it was too late, and saved Robert Bowen’s life with an antidote.

“But your da will never be the same again,” Fergus told Cicely. “He is weak, and unable to walk more than a few feet at a time, poor man. And it is difficult for him to reflect for too long. Your eldest half brother has come home from court to help.”

Cicely shook her head. “Charles is only twelve,” she said. “What has happened to Luciana, my stepmother?”

“They have confined her to her apartment with her servant,” Fergus said.

“Donna Clara,” Cicely noted.

“She’s as mad as a rabid fox,” Fergus said. “I saw her being taken for a walk in the gardens. Her hair and garments were in disarray, and she spoke not. But then when she saw the gardener’s small child she began to screech and tear at her hair, poor soul.”

“She belongs in hell,” Cicely responded coldly.

“I spoke briefly with your da,” Fergus said. “He sends you his tenderest love, but he cannot aid you financially. He will, however, send to the goldsmith in London who put your dower with his kinsman in Edinburgh. The earl says the goldsmith in Edinburgh had no right to give what was yours to anyone but you. He will press his man in London to see what can be done.”

“The goldsmith in Edinburgh will avoid responsibility for fear of the king,” Cicely said. “He will claim that as the king was my guardian
he believed he might give him my monies. And who will fault him? I should go to Leighton and look after my father.”

“You cannot be in the same house with that madwoman who is your stepmother,” Ian Douglas protested. “She will know you are there and seek to harm you.”

“I can stay in the cottage where Orva and I lived when I was a child,” Cicely said.

“I agree with the laird,” Orva spoke. She had been in the hall and heard all. “Your father will be well cared for at Leighton. You are no longer a child, my lady. Your duty is here with your husband, and your Glengorm folk.”

Ian Douglas felt sorrow for his wife, but at least now she had something else to think about besides her wretched dower. Why wouldn’t she understand that he was satisfied with what he had? It was her he had wanted, and nothing more.

And then came word that Queen Joan had given birth to her second child, another princess, Isabella.

Upon hearing the news Cicely burst into tears. “I shall never be able to give you my dower now,” she wailed.

“I don’t give a damn about the dower,” Ian said angrily. “I don’t care about it! Can you not understand that, ladyfaire? Give me what I really want. Give me an heir! At least the queen is trying to do her duty.”

Her tears suddenly ceased. She was astounded by his words. “Ian,” she began.

“Nay, Cicely, not another word!” He looked angry, and she had never before really seen him angry. “I will hear no more about your dower. The king has taken it. He is unlikely to return it to us. Do not tell me again that without your dower you are valueless. All the gold in Scotland would not suffice me if I lost you. You are precious to me, and of great worth to Glengorm. You have fretted and fumed over your monies since the day the king told you he took them; but I swear to you that if I had them in my hand at this very minute I should throw them into the middle of the loch and be done with it!”

It took a moment but his words finally made sense to her. He was right, of course. It was unlikely she would ever see her dower, and to ruin her happiness over a pile of gold was worse than foolish. He loved her for who she was, not for the gold she might have brought him.
Blessed Mother!
She was so fortunate. Little Beth Williams had had to prove her worth with a fat dower. Andrew Gordon wouldn’t have had her otherwise. But she, the Earl of Leighton’s daughter, was loved for herself and naught else. What a fool she had been! And how fortunate she really was.

“The matter is closed, my lord,” she told her husband.

“For good?” he demanded.

“Forever,”
she said with a small smile. She moved to stand before him. “Now you must kiss me, for your words were harsh, and you frightened me.”

Wrapping his strong arms about her, he kissed her a hard kiss and then he laughed. “I have never frightened you, my love. Even when I trussed you up and stole you from Perth you assailed me with your fierce spirit. You are as braw a lassie as I have ever known. Now, that other matter we earlier discussed . . .” he said, smiling into her face.

“We will simply have to try harder, my lord.” She giggled.

In early autumn Glengorm found itself assailed by raiders from the English side of the border, and a flock of sheep was driven off, but no one was harmed. Ian was surprised, for like everyone else on the border he had hoped an English queen of Scotland would help keep the peace. Andrew Grey arrived to say Ben Duff had been attacked, and he had lost some cattle but no lives were lost.

“Do you know who it is?” Ben Duff asked Ian. “They came before moonrise, and I couldn’t identify anyone or anything.”

“I suspect ’twas Hunter Grahame and his ilk. An English queen of Scotland wouldn’t make a difference to him,” Ian replied. “That family has little respect for anyone or anything. We can’t let these two raids go unpunished, Andrew.”

“I know,” the laird of Ben Duff answered with a sigh. “Maggie’s
breeding again, and I don’t want her upset, but if we don’t strike back they’ll take it for weakness. God knows what will happen then.”

“We should strike at them at dawn,” Ian suggested. “They won’t be expecting us to do that. They will think of us coming in the night, as they did. We’ll take our livestock back and leave them to themselves. I have no real quarrel with the Grahames of Greyhome. How many men did you bring with you, Andrew?”

“Only a dozen,” he replied. “I didn’t want to leave Maggie unprotected.”

“ ’Tis enough,” Ian said. “Let us get it over and done with before they slaughter any of our beasts to eat.”

Cicely had never seen a party of border raiders. They had been sleeping when the Grahames had stolen the Glengorm flock. At least three dozen men filled the hall, crowding the trestles as supper of rabbit stew and ale was served up. One of Ben Duff’s men found himself smacked upon his head when he slid a hand beneath Flora’s skirts as she served him. There was much good-natured laughter. Cicely’s terriers slipped beneath the high board, hoping for fallen tidbits. Finally, with the meal cleared away, the men settled down to catch some sleep before riding out several hours before the dawn.