The Border Lord's Bride (26 page)

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Authors: Bertrice Small

Tags: #Fiction, #Romance, #Historical, #General

BOOK: The Border Lord's Bride
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"My lady, Artair, the captain of the guard, has been ill. He put his eldest son in charge of the gate, and Father Iver had gone out to visit an elderly cottager. The lad thought it was safe to leave the gates open until he returned."

"The lad has been brought up here at Duffdour," Ellen said sharply. "His father is a soldier. What kind of fool was he to think he might leave the gates open? And when he saw seven riders coming, why did he not close them? At least until he learned their business? Lord Colby knows that now that he has gained entry to our house we will not abuse the laws of hospitality, but he is the enemy nonetheless."

"Lady, I have not yet learned the truth of this matter, but I will. Artair, I am told, arose from his sickbed, and beat his son bloody for what has happened," Sim said.

"No one was hurt then by this incursion?" Ellen asked her majordomo.

"Nay, lady. Other than the fact that we have seven English in the house, all is well," Sim replied.

"They must have come for a specific purpose, else they would have brought far more men to Duffdour," he noted.

"My lord will learn their purpose soon enough," Ellen responded. Then, picking up her skirts, she said, "I must get back to the hall. See that a hot meal is served promptly." She moved off up the stairs now, and back into her hall. Joining Duncan and their guests, she smiled. "Your unexpected arrival has frightened my servants, my lord," she chided Lord Colby, "but we will soon have food upon the table. You have wine? Ah, good, you do." Ellen looked about, and instantly a servant was at her side with a goblet. She took it from him and drank deeply. All she had wanted was to gain her home, have a good supper, and then climb into her bed with Duncan.

Instead she must entertain this unwelcome visitor who eyed her with a much too bold look.

"I apologize, lady," Roger, Lord Colby, said with a charming grin. "My men and I were but out for a ride when we came upon Duffdour, and it looked so inviting we could not resist coming to call."

Ellen was forced to laugh, but Duncan did not look pleased at all.

"Open gates are always inviting," he murmured darkly.

"Sim tells me that Artair is quite sick," Ellen told her husband.

Duncan nodded. "I will speak with him later," he said grimly.

Lord Colby listened to this cryptic exchange, amused. He and his men had ridden through the open gates to discover a group of young men at arms surrounding two very pretty girls, laughing and chatting away with them. They had looked totally surprised when they realized that seven armed men had just passed through their gates, and one of the youths had demanded with great self-importance to know their business. It hadn‘t been difficult to overcome the inexperienced men at arms and enter the house. He could only imagine Duncan Armstrong‘s chagrin, and expected that there would be hell to pay when the laird of Duffdour got to the bottom of the matter. In the meantime he knew that he and his men were protected by the laws of hospitality, which not even the most wicked borderer would contravene. He smiled pleasantly at his host, and sipped his wine.

"Has Lord Colby yet spoken of the reason for his visit?" Ellen gently pressed her husband.

Duncan was angry, but he was being forced to restrain his anger for the moment, and that was but feeding his anger further.

"I will discuss it with your good lord after the meal," Lord Colby said before the laird might speak up. "It is not a matter that you need trouble your pretty head about."

"I share all with my wife," Duncan said in hard tones. "Anything affecting me or Duffdour affects my wife. Therefore she is always kept informed of what I am thinking, and what is happening."

"How very modern of you," Lord Colby murmured. "You must value your wife quite highly, my lord. And you, madam, do you feel treasured by this man? For you should. It is rare that a man will admit to accepting his wife‘s counsel."

Duncan could feel his temper rising further, but Ellen‘s gentle hand on his cooled his ire as she spoke to the Englishman.

"I do indeed feel treasured, my lord. How clever of you to understand. I shall look forward to learning the nature and reason for your visit after we have dined."

"The meal is ready, my lady." Sim had quietly joined them.

Ellen arose. "Come, my lords," she invited them, "and let us settle ourselves at the table. I‘m sure the cook has set forth a fine meal." She was pleased to see that her servants had placed the fine silver plates upon the table. They had been a wedding gift from Margaret Stewart, along with matching silver spoons. Their best goblets were also silver, studded with green agate. They were very old.

"Wine or ale, my lords?" Ellen asked them, and the appropriate beverage was poured into the goblets. Both men took ale, but Ellen preferred watered wine. She wondered about her

appearance, for she had not had time to change, nor had she even seen Peigi or Gunna. They would undoubtedly be awaiting her upstairs. She had entered her hall wearing breeches, for she far preferred riding astride to riding sidesaddle, as most women did. Yet Lord Colby hadn‘t been in the least shocked.

The cook had conjured up a fine meal. Ellen watched as the servers brought platters of sliced trout, a fat roasted capon, a haunch of venison to be carved, and a ham. There were bowls with creamed cod, and lamb stew, a meat pie, a dish of braised lettuces, fresh bread, a crock of sweet butter, and half a wheel of a hard yellow cheese.

"You keep a good table," Lord Colby praised, and he ate like a man starving.

She and Duncan, Ellen saw, were a bit more abstemious, for she knew that they were more concerned with why the Englishman had violated their home. What did he want? Why had he come to Duffdour? When the meal had been cleared away the trio once again went to sit before the fire, where they might learn the nature of their guest‘s visit. They had to admit they were very curious.

The laird of Duffdour spoke first. "You have, sir, entered my house uninvited and unannounced.

I have honored the laws of hospitality. Now, what is the purpose of your visit, my lord?"

"I come with an offer from King Henry," Lord Colby began.

"I do not know the fellow," Duncan Armstrong said rudely.

Lord Colby smiled briefly. "This young king of yours will not last long upon his stolen throne, Armstrong. He is not well liked, and eventually will be pulled down. My master, King Henry, would offer you, and several others here along our shared border, the chance to give your allegiance to England. Do so, and you will be safe when this James Stewart is replaced."

"The eldest surviving son of a reigning king can hardly be called a usurper," Duncan said slowly.

"The throne belongs to James Stewart, the fourth of that name, heir to James the third of that name, now deceased. And those who swear to your master that James is not well liked are badly misinformed; or perhaps they just have their own agenda and wish to hoodwink your king to gain their own purposes. King James is already adored by the people. He is not his father, who did not listen to his own lords, and who wasted the treasury on trifles while ignoring the cries of his own people. This James Stewart listens, is frugal, and is already beloved of his people. He is as comfortable conversing with a foreign ambassador in his own language as he is in a Highland hall speaking in the northern tongue of our people. I am his man, and I will never betray him."

"Your king is a foolish young man," Lord Colby said. "This adventure he has embarked upon with Margaret of Burgundy‘s pawn proves that."

"Ahh." Duncan Armstrong began to chuckle. "So our Jamie has indeed managed to put a burr beneath your king‘s saddle with the lad they call the true king of England."

"Henry Tudor is England‘s true king," Lord Colby said, irritated by the laird‘s sharp and accurate barb. "But, aye, he fears another useless civil war should anyone flock to the banner of this Plantagenet bastard Burgundy attempts to foist off on the world as King Edward‘s surviving son. Those two unfortunate princes disappeared, and no one truly knows what happened to them, although it is believed King Richard had them slain to protect himself after his brother died. And the queen is most distraught by this pretender. It but brings back sad memories she would sooner forget."

"So your king seeks to cause trouble for Scotland as Scotland is causing it for England. Well, my wife and I have just returned from court. We have seen this lad who calls himself your true king.

Whether he is or nay I could not tell you, for I would not know one English prince from another, my lord. I‘m a simple man, a bonnet laird. I am not a man for political maneuvering or plotting.

When this storm is over you and your men may leave in peace, and we will not follow you. I seek no enemies if I can avoid it. But I will never betray James Stewart."

"I came to you first, Armstrong. He who offers King Henry his loyalty first will be rewarded handsomely," Lord Colby said.

"You came to me first because, while I am a simple man, I am well respected among my fellow lairds here in the border. You came to me because my Bruce half brother is kin to James Stewart.

What a coup that would be for you! You hoped by subverting me you could gain the trust of the others. Do you take me for that great a fool, my lord, that I would not divine your purpose?

Because my family name is not of great import, because I eschew the halls of power and prefer to live my life quietly here in the border does not mean I am stupid, my lord."

Roger, Lord Colby, flushed with the strong rebuke. "Nay, I do not think you a fool, Armstrong, but I believe you ill place your loyalty to this king of yours. God‘s wounds, man! He slew his own father to gain his throne."

"The death of King James the Third was not the king‘s fault," the laird said. "We have never been able to learn who killed that unfortunate, but that it was a man who claimed to be a priest to the two women who sought one for the wounded man they did not know was their king. If

someone sent this assassin, if the assassin was someone who saw what he thought was an opportunity to gain favor with an important lord, that man has never stepped forth. He would not have dared to admit to the deed once the depth of the king‘s grief became apparent. King James wears an iron link beneath his garments in penance, and to always remind himself of what happened. As for your king, there is blood enough on his hands, my lord. Shall we speak on the death of King Richard, and many of England‘s good sons?"

"Even if you do not join us," Lord Colby said, "there will be those who will. In the end we can keep the borderlands roiled up with strife. You think the raiding in the past has been hard? It will be worse soon enough. You would be well protected if you joined us. The Scots do not have to know of your change of loyalties. But you could be safe from any attacks from the English borderers."

"You seek my small influence, yet you would keep my part in your nefarious scheme secret?"

The laird shook his head. "You are either mad or desperate. Perhaps you are both. My answer is nay. It will always be nay. There is nothing you can do that would change my mind. I am my king‘s loyal man. When the storm has blown itself out, my men and I will personally escort you back over the border, my lord." Duncan Armstrong stood up. "Sim!" he called to his majordomo, and when Sim came the laird said to him, "Show Lord Colby where he is to sleep tonight."

Reaching out, he pulled Ellen up to stand by his side. "I bid you a good night, my lord," he told the Englishman. Then, hand in hand, without another backward glance at the man, he walked upstairs with his wife. He was still angry at all that had transpired.

Ellen sensed it. When they entered their bedchamber she turned to face him, and his arms closed about her. "He has been insulting since the first moment he entered Duffdour uninvited," she said. "His request is insulting. If he were an honorable man he could not be induced to solicit treachery from others for his king. It says nothing good about this Henry Tudor." Reaching up, she stroked his strong face. "Do not be angry, my lord. Or if you would, then release your anger in passion for me." Ellen brushed his lips with hers, pressing herself against her long, lean husband.

The laird could feel his fury begin to slink away, and he kissed her back hard. "What magic is this that you weave about me, you Highland witch?" He felt his body eager to respond to the silent invitation she was offering him. It had been days since they had been able to share an intimacy with each other. Duncan pressed kisses over his wife‘s heart-shaped little face. His finger began to unlace her shirt.

"Ummmm," Ellen murmured, reaching down with a hand to encourage the burgeoning she felt between his legs. "Ohh, such an eager and randy laddie," she teased.

His hand slipped into her now open shirt, past her chemise, and cupped a soft round little breast.

He had adored those breasts since he first laid eyes upon them. They were plump and round, like autumn apples. His thumb rubbed across her nipple.

Ellen squirmed in his arms, for she had discovered from the first time they had made love how very sensitive her breasts were. He was rousing a fire within her, and she could feel the moisture already bubbling up between her nether lips.

With a groan of impatience the laird suddenly ripped his wife‘s shirt and chemise open in order to have full access to those tempting breasts. His big hands fitted themselves about her narrow waist, and he lifted her up so he might run his tongue between the valley separating her breasts.

Her flesh was sweet to his taste. He turned his head and captured an already puckered nipple in his mouth, and began to suck upon it in a leisurely fashion.

Ellen murmured with her pleasure as his teeth grazed her gently. He walked across their bedchamber, still suckling her, to lay her down upon her back on their bed. His hands now free, Duncan undid the belt at her breeches, pulling the garment down to her boot tops. His mouth never left her breast as he did. The sensuous tugging on her flesh, first on one side, and then the other, was setting her aflame with lust. And then his tongue was licking across her half-naked torso in long, hot strokes, and she moaned.

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