The Border Lord and the Lady (42 page)

Kier Douglas caught his breath, waiting. It came quickly.

“
What?
The king will return the portion of my dower that he hasn’t already stolen, will he? How dare he? How dare he!” Cicely raged. “He would not give what was rightfully mine to Ian, but he will give it to
your son
? Ohh! I cannot believe this. It is too much to be borne. You would take Glengorm from Johanna and give it to your son. The king would take my dower to bribe the Gordons. Is there no honor in Scotland at all?” Turning, she dashed from the hall, and they heard her footsteps as she ran up the stairs.

“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:

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.

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.

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?”

“
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.