He nodded.
“You’ve come to court for the coronation?” Cicely inquired politely.
“Aye,” he agreed. What the hell was the matter with him? He had never been so damned speechless in all of his life. She was just a lass.Ah,a little voice in his head said,but she is the lass you mean to wed.
“I find Perth charming, don’t you?” Cicely said to him. He was certainly a handsome man, but one of few words.
“I don’t like the city,” Ian Douglas said. “I prefer my own lands, and the hills of the border. The air is fresher and the sky wider when it is not hemmed in by buildings.”
“You should not like England then,” Cicely replied. “We have many more towns than I have seen here in Scotland. London is very big and noisy. More so than here in Perth, my lord. Will you return soon to your home then?”
“In a few days,” he told her. His hazel eyes narrowed as AndrewGordon came to be by Cicely’s side. Could the man not leave her alone?
“Then perhaps we shall see each other again, my lord,” Cicely said. Then she turned to the queen. “With your permission, Highness, Andrew has suggested a walk in the gardens.” And when the queen nodded Cicely curtsied and, putting her small hand upon the laird of Fairlea’s arm, moved off, smiling up at him and chattering animatedly.
Seeing the disappointment in his eyes the queen said sympathetically, “I believe your efforts would be better appreciated by another, my lord. The laird of Fairlea seems to have caught Cicely’s attentions. They are much alike, I think.”
“I will consider your advice, madam,” Ian Douglas said. Then he bowed politely to her and, turning, walked away. Fergus hurried after his brother.
“He cannot have been that interested to have given up so easily,” the queen said.
“Ian Douglas is not a man used to accepting defeat, madam,” Sir William noted. “Nor is he a man to reveal his own thoughts openly or easily. Along both sides of the border he is known as thecannyDouglas of Glengorm. One cannot predict what he will do. But he is also not a villain.” The clan chief looked across the hall. Ian Douglas and his brother were gone. Sir William felt just the slightest unease.
The two brothers had left the palace, riding back to their lodging. Ian’s mood was a dark one, and he furrowed his brow in deep thought.
For a time Fergus remained silent, but then he said, “Well, you were warned.”
“I behaved like a lad with his first lass,” the laird said angrily. “I spoke to her but little. God’s blood, Fergus, she is so fair! Her eyes are blue-green. And that hair! It was all I could do not to run my hands through it. Her voice is sweet, and there was the fragrance of violets about her.”
“Let it go, brother,” Fergus said. “When Andrew Gordon came to her side she dismissed you easily and went off with him. They say Huntley will ask for her for his kinsman before Midsummer. She’ll be wedded and bedded by Lammastide.”
“No!”the laird of Glengorm said furiously. “Fairlea will not have her! Cicely Bowen is mine, and she will be my wife. We need to know each other better, but how can I make her see that I am the husband for her if every time I approach her she is either with that damned Gordon or he is hovering nearby?”
“As long as the Gordons remain in Perth there is little you can do about it, Ian,” his younger brother said. “They’ve set their sights on her. I’ve already told you that she has a very fat dower portion from her father.”
“So the Gordons want her for her wealth! The bastards!” the laird swore. “I wanted her the moment I saw her, and knew nothing of her. I would have her even if she came to me in her chemise and could offer nothing more.”
“Jesu!” Now it was Fergus who swore. “Ye’re in love! How the hell can you fall in love with a lass and know so little about her? Or is it lust, Ian?”
“Both,” the laird admitted. “Aye, I want to bed her, but it’s more than that. There is something about her. I can’t even find the right words to explain myself. I just know she is the one I am meant to wed, to have children with, and to grow old together with.”
“Then I’m sorry for you,” Fergus said, “for it’s unlikely you’ll gain your heart’s desire, Ian. There is naught you can do to change this situation.”
“There is always something that can be done, little brother. But I need to go home to Glengorm and consider well what I shall do next. There is nothing more for us here in Perth. We shall leave tomorrow, but I will dream of Cicely Bowen tonight.”
Cicely would have been flattered if she had heard his words, but she didn’t, of course. She walked in a mid-May garden with the lairdof Fairlea. The air was fresh with the scent of early flowers, though still chill. “Does it ever get warmer in Scotland?” she asked her companion.
“Are you cold, sweeting?” he inquired, and put an arm about her.
“A little,” Cicely admitted.
“Let us stop and sit,” he suggested. “I’ll share my cloak with you.” He flung it about her shoulders as they sat down, his arm bringing her closer. “Is that better?”
“Ummm, aye, it is,” Cicely admitted. “But we shouldn’t remain here too long. People will gossip, and I have my reputation to consider, my lord.”
“Just long enough for me to steal a kiss, sweeting,” the laird of Fairlea said, catching her chin between his thumb and forefinger, tipping her face up to his, and placing his lips upon hers.
Cicely sighed with delight as he kissed her softly, brushing his mouth over hers. She had entertained a stolen kiss now and again. A maiden, even a homely one, didn’t get to be seventeen and not be kissed. His mouth was gentle and his breath sweet. But after a moment she drew away. “You are too bold,” she said to him.
