The Captive Heart (37 page)

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Authors: Bertrice Small

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

BOOK: The Captive Heart
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Bab decided for them. “We should remain here, my lady,” she said. “ ’Twill be better. Once the door is broken through, the hall will be the center of the fighting. Sir Udolf is no coward, and he will defend his home and all he believes is his.”
Alix nodded. Bab was right in everything she said, but the Laird of Dunglais’s wife knew her captor did not have the men to overcome the great group of Scots borderers. “Add more wood to the fire, Bab,” she said. “The morning is yet chill.” Then she went to her window to watch as her rescuers arrived, milling about before the front of the house. Pushing the narrow casement window open, she called down, “My lords, I bid you welcome. I am more than ready to come home.”
The borderers, seeing her, hearing her words, cheered lustily, their horses stamping and snorting in the icy morning.
“I am relieved to see you, lambkin,” the Laird of Dunglais called up to his wife. “Is your chamber secure?”
“It is, my lord,” Alix assured him. She could see his breath in the cold air.
“Then remain where you are until this is over,” he advised her.
“Do not kill him, Colm,” Alix warned. “I do not want the death of a madman on my soul, or yours. Do what you must, but leave Sir Udolf alive to face his own demons.”
“ ’Tis poor advice, lady,” and to her surprise Alix recognized Adam Hepburn. “A madman cannot be swayed in his thought or else he would not be mad. If you do not kill him, he will return again and again to trouble you until he is dead.”
“I believe today’s lesson coupled with that of my husband’s last visit will convince Sir Udolf of his folly,” Alix replied.
“I think you wrong, lambkin,” Malcolm Scott said, “but I will attempt to follow your wishes, for the sake of our child you carry.”

Grand merci
, my lord,” she answered him with a smile, and drew the casement closed. Turning to Bab she said, “You had best pack our belongings.” Then she began to dress herself for travel, pulling on a gown of dark blue jersey she had left behind when she had originally fled Wulfborn over two years ago. She could not wear the breeks she favored for riding any longer, and would, she knew, have to ride sidesaddle. It would be an uncomfortable journey, but she would make it if it meant getting safely home to Dunglais and her own hall. Suddenly they heard a great booming sound. The house shuddered and shook.
“They’re storming the house,” Bab said, and she chortled. “Ohh, I should like to see Sir Udolf’s face right now.”
The noise and the effect it caused came again and again and again. A great shout arose. There was a final boom, and the two women actually heard the door give way as the battering ram shattered the ancient iron-bound oak. A mighty howl was emitted from the borderers, and then they pushed into Wulfborn Hall, meeting absolutely no resistance from the servants, who had all hidden themselves away for fear of being carried off into bondage. Half charging into the great hall of the house, they faced Father Peter and Sir Udolf Watteson.
“I’ve come for my wife,” the Laird of Dunglais said quietly.
“You will have to fight me for her,” Sir Udolf cried, and he charged at Malcolm Scott, waving his sword.
The laird disarmed him easily, skillfully knocking his attacker’s weapon from his hand with his own sword. “I will not fight you, my lord. My wife has asked that your life be spared in spite of the misery you have caused us. While I disagree with her, I will grant her this boon for the sake of the son she carries.”
“Coward!” Sir Udolf shouted. “Will you hide behind her skirts? Alix is mine! I have a dispensation from York to make her my wife. I will give you the child she bears for you, but she is mine! I will not give her up! I will not!”
Suddenly Adam Hepburn stepped forward. Reaching out, he grasped Sir Udolf by the neck of his dark robe, pulling him forward so that they were face-to-face. “Old man,” he growled, “I did not promise to leave you unharmed. One more word out of you, and I will slit your throat with the greatest of pleasure.” He then shoved the Englishman to the floor, saying as he did, “Priest! See to your master. We are through here, and enough time has been wasted on this matter.”
While he had spoken, the Ferguson of Drumcairn had gone with several of his own men upstairs, and was calling for Alix to come out, which she did, Bab behind her.
“Uncle, I am happy to see you,” Alix said.
He stared at her big belly for a moment and then, grinning, said, “ ’Tis a lad. My Maggie never carried as big. Well, come along now, lass. ’Tis past time we got you home. Your man is in the hall finishing up that bit of business.”
“He has not harmed poor Sir Udolf, has he?” Alix asked.
“Nay, he’s given in to you, but from what I see of the man he would be better off dead and gone. Now, have you anything you would take with you here?”
“The small trunk at the foot of the bed was mine when I first came with Queen Margaret. I should like to have it back,” Alix told him.
“Bring it, lads,” Robert Ferguson said. Then he eyed Bab. “And her?”
“Bab comes with me,” Alix told him.
He nodded. “Well, then, let us be off. I think it best you not bid the Englishman farewell. Hepburn felt it necessary to speak rather firmly with him. No need to set the man off again in his madness.” He led the two women downstairs, moving quickly past the wide entry to the great hall of the house.
Outside, to her surprise, Alix saw a small padded cart had been brought. Her escort led her to it. “This is for me?” she said.
“You can hardly ride with that belly,” Robert Ferguson said.
“There are two horses in the stables that are mine. I won’t leave without them,” Alix told her husband’s uncle.
“Two horses?” he said.
“When I originally fled Wulfborn I went on foot. I thought if my horse was found missing they would know I was gone. But the beast is mine, and I would have it back. My father, God assoil him, gave it to me. Bab knows which of the horses are mine,” Alix explained. “Send one of your men with her to get them, I beg you.”
The Ferguson of Drumcairn nodded, and dispatched a man to go with Bab. Then he helped Alix into the padded cart, laying a heavy fur blanket over her lap. “I’ll go tell Colm you’re safe and ready to leave,” he said. Then he hurried back into the house, going directly to the great hall.
Sir Udolf and the priest were both being carefully bound and then tied into chairs by the hearth. Several of the laird’s men had found the frightened servants. They secured them also and locked them in the pantry, a small windowless room with but one entrance, barring that entry. Eventually someone would manage to get free and would free the rest of the house’s inhabitants. And it was very unlikely that anyone would come after the Scots borderers. Sir Udolf had few retainers left.
“Alix is in her conveyance, Nephew,” Robert Ferguson said. “Come along now. I believe our business here is finished and the weather is lowering. We have a fair ways to travel, and the cart will slow us down, I fear, but the lady cannot ride. Her belly is large.”
Without a further glance back at Sir Udolf Watteson, who was muttering in his chair, Malcolm Scott dashed outside to greet his wife. She was seated on the cart’s padded bench wrapped in furs. Climbing up, he kissed her a hard kiss.
Alix melted in his embrace, her lips softening beneath his, sighing as he released her. “Good morrow, my lord husband,” she said, smiling. “Thank you for coming for me. Your son and I are anxious to go home.”
His big hand caressed her small face. “I can hardly believe you are here with me,” he said, his voice thick with emotion. “I will never allow you to be put in such danger again, lambkin. Forgive me!”
“Oh, Colm, how could you—how could we—know that in his madness Sir Udolf would have me kidnapped? ’Twas not your fault. We are together again, and I will not be parted from you evermore.” She kissed his lips softly.
The Laird of Dunglais smiled down at his wife and then he saw the other woman seated in the rear of the cart, along with a small trunk. “Who is this?” he asked Alix.
“Bab was my servant when I lived at Wulfborn before. After I fled, Sir Udolf treated her cruelly, beating her without just cause and blaming her for my flight. She was not, of course, responsible, for she did not know of my plans. I will not leave her again, Colm. She will care for the bairn when he is born.”
“If she has served you well and suffered for your sake, then she will be welcome to Dunglais,” the laird said, nodding at Bab. Then he saw the two horses tied to the back of the little cart. “I recognize the mare, but the gelding?”
Alix explained, and he chuckled.
“I am pleased to see you are becoming more Scots with each passing day, lambkin. If the beast is yours, then to leave it a second time would be foolish. Your frugality delights me.”
“The creature is used to carrying a female upon its back,” Alix said. “I think it will prove a safe and reliable mount for Fiona. She is really becoming too big for her pony. One thing before we go, my lord. I would visit my father’s grave a final time.”
He nodded. “We will stop, lambkin,” he promised her.
The great group of borderers had finally exited the house and were mounting up. An older Scott clansman climbed up next to Alix, nodding briefly to her and taking the reins of the horses that would pull the cart. She was surprised to see that there were four animals for the vehicle and not two. Then Alix realized that with four, the cart could move a bit quicker without jostling its occupants too roughly.
They moved off, stopping briefly at the burial ground on the hill where Alix bid a final farewell to her father and then left Wulfborn Hall behind them. The attack had come at dawn, and as there had been no defense made against their incursion it was still early morning. They traveled without stopping until the sun was at mid-heaven. Alix was ravenous, for there had been no time for Bab to find her breakfast. She eagerly gobbled the oatcakes and hard cheese her husband brought her. Then she swallowed down the cold water in his flask.
“Is there any place we can shelter tonight?” she asked the laird.
He shook his head. “Nay, but you and your woman can sleep comfortably in the cart. We can put an awning over you to protect you more.”
“I need hot food,” she told him.
“We set traps as we came. We’ll have roasted rabbit for certain tonight, my lambkin. I know this is difficult for you, but we will be home soon,” he murmured to her encouragingly, and kissed her forehead.
She smiled at him, but Alix knew better. The cart was slowing them down. It would be another full day of traveling, and then perhaps another half. But there was no help for it. She simply could not ride. But if she had one consolation it was that she would be home just in time for Christmas. That night, and the night after, she and Bab shared the large fur robe, huddling together to keep warm. Light snow came in short bursts as they traveled, but then it was winter and snow was to be expected. Midmorning of their second day of traveling the laird announced to them that they were once more in Scotland. Alix was relieved to learn it. It wasn’t that she expected Sir Udolf to have escaped his bonds, gather a party of soldiers, and come after her. Nay, it wasn’t that. It was just she had come to think of Scotland as her home.
Their second night on the road the snow was a little heavier and more sustained. It was so bitterly cold, although the wind was calm. Wrapping her cloak about her, Alix shivered nonetheless. She caressed her belly with her gloved hands more to reassure herself than anything else. Her child was most active and seemed to be dancing a jig within her womb. She slept sporadically, although Bab snored contentedly by her side.
Alix was not unhappy when the morning finally came. Colm had reassured her that they would get home by midday. The great party of Ferguson and Hepburn clansmen were still riding with them. Now Alix began to worry about how they were to be fed and housed before traveling on the morrow to their own homes. But certainly Fenella would be prepared for them, she finally decided.
And then through the gray she finally saw the shadowed outline of Dunglais Keep. She pointed it out to Bab excitedly. “We’re almost home!” Alix declared, smiling.
“It looks a rough place,” Bab said softly, nervously.
“The keep is older than Wulfborn, ’tis true, but inside it is warm and cozy,” Alix told her serving woman. “But should you be unhappy, I will send you back to England in the spring.”
“Nay,” Bab said in a resigned voice. “There is no place for me there now.”
Alix reached out and patted the older woman’s hand comfortingly. She had never known the quick-tongued Bab to be so subdued. She almost felt sorry for her, but then, she decided, as soon as Bab recovered from the shock of what had happened and regained her footing she would be as sharp as ever. “Fenella is the housekeeper, and I will put you in her charge,” Alix said. “Respect her and the position she holds within the house and she will help you. I know it cannot be easy starting all over again, Bab, but you are a strong woman. This is not Wulfborn. It is a better, happier place.”
The cart trundled up the hill to the keep. The laird had ridden on ahead to identify himself and their party. The little drawbridge was already lowered by the time they reached it. The cart rolled over it and into the courtyard. The laird was there at once to help his wife out of her vehicle. Beinn hoisted Bab from her place, setting her upon her feet, which were numb with the cold. Bab thanked him, and he nodded politely in response. Then she followed Alix into the keep.
When they reached the hall, a little girl dashed forward, half laughing, half crying. She flung herself at Alix, who caught the child in her arms and hugged her hard. “Oh, Mam, I was so afraid I had lost you like I lost the other one,” Fiona cried. “I am so glad you are home.” Then she stepped back from Alix and her eyes widened. “Oh, you are so fat with my brother, Alix! Will he come soon?” Her gaze swung to Bab. “Who is this?” she asked, curiously eying the older woman.

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