“You have chafed my wrists raw,” she complained. “Where can I run to, my lord, that you persist in binding me?”
“I don’t know,” he admitted, “but we are close enough now to Glengorm that I will take no chances with you, ladyfaire. By sunset we should reach home. I do not wish to waste time chasing you over the hills and moors. Do you not wear gloves when you ride, madam?”
“I do, but I also leave them with my horse, which, the last time I saw him, was tethered outside of Mistress Marjory’s shop,” Cicely snapped. “You are a monster, and—”
He cut her off. “I will hang. I know. I know!”
The day was gray and lowering as they rode across the hilly countryside. Now and again in the distance a tower house came into view, but they never rode near any dwelling. They saw no one, nor were they seen. There was no one to whom Cicely might appeal for help. Again, as on the day before, they stopped once. But today they did not linger long resting. The laird and his brother were most anxious to reach their home. And at this point so was Cicely.
Traveling to Scotland with the king and queen had been an almostleisurely progression. Each night they had stopped at either the home of some noble or at the guesthouse of an important monastery or convent. When such accommodation had not been available they had been housed within comfortable pavilions set up for them by staff who had ridden ahead. They had been served hot meals. It had been most civilized. This journey had been horrible. The laird’s home would certainly be provincial, rustic, but it would be warm and dry. There would be cooked food.
“We are almost home,” the laird said, coming up to her side, for he had ridden ahead briefly.
It had begun to rain, and it was an icy rain. There was a north wind at their back now. Ahead of them Cicely saw a wood rising from between the hills. She hunched down into her cloak, her hood pulled up to protect her from the growing storm. They rode into the wood. In summer it would have been thick with growth, but now the branches of its trees were stark and black against the gray sky. The path through the wood began to move upwards, and suddenly she saw the house atop the hill. It was tall and square, and had a single tower that rose from the south corner of the building.
“Why is there only one tower?” she asked, curious, as they rode up the incline.
“Glengorm first began as a tower house,” Fergus explained.
“It might be a castle if it had more than one tower,” Cicely said.
“We’re not a grand enough family for a castle, ladyfaire,” the laird said. “But our great-grandfather returned from the Crusades with some treasure. He decided to enlarge our home, for he could think of no better use for his small trove.”
“Our grandfather told us his father often said if he put his prize in stone and mortar no one could steal it from him,” Fergus added.
“Someone might have coveted the house,” Cicely said, “and taken it from you.”
“Glengorm is too well hidden, and the only bit of it that shows from the surrounding countryside is the tower, which is like so manyother tower houses. We are rarely raided,” Fergus added. “Only our own people know of our existence. Most of the other branches of the Douglas clans do not. You will be very safe here.”
“Where is your loch?” she asked him.
“You’ll be able to see it from the house,” Fergus told her.
“What does ‘Glengorm’ mean?” Cicely inquired.
Now it was the laird who spoke up. “Glenis our word for a valley.Gormmeans blue and green. The green trees surrounding us, the blue loch. It is from them that Glengorm takes its name, ladyfaire. I am glad to see you showing such an interest in your new home,” he said to her.
“When the king sends his men for me, my lord, I will go with them,” Cicely told the laird sharply. “This is not my home, nor will it ever be. I am here under protest, as you are more than well aware.” She glared at him.
“You are a strong, proud lass,” he said. “It pleases me well to see it. Hold on to your faith, ladyfaire, if it helps you to deal with your situation. But know that I hold tightly to mine. Youwillbe my wife. Once you have learned to know me you will love me, madam. All the lasses do, but ’tis you I want.”
Cicely burst out laughing. “You think highly of yourself, my lord.” Then her face darkened with her anger. “But I do not! You have not stolen just one of the queen’s ladies. You have stolen me, and I am the queen’s favorite, her friend of long standing. Do you actually believe you will be permitted to retain my person when they come for me, and I say nay to you before witnesses? And I will say nay!”
“We are going to have time to know each other,” Ian Douglas told her. “And how, ladyfaire, will they find you unless they learn where you are? And how will they know if they are not aware of who stole you away? And who will tell them? Only my brother and I were involved in your abduction.”
“You planned this carefully,” Cicely surprised the two men by saying. “You had to know where I would be, and when. It was not bychance that you took me when you did. There is someone else involved, and when the hue and cry is raised, as it already has been, you will be found out, my lord. And then I will be rescued from your clutches. I will not plead for you, but I will ask that mercy be shown to your brother, who has been kind to me. And I will plead for your clansmen and -women, who are innocent of your perfidy.”
Now it was the laird who laughed, although again her astuteness surprised him. “If you are found it will be many weeks hence. The Gordons will not want you then, for your virtue will be in question, ladyfaire, after time in my custody. You will end up having to marry me whether you will or no, and the king will consent,” Ian Douglas told her boldly.
“The king cannot consent unless I consent, my lord. If you knew anything about me you would know that. ’Tis true the king is my guardian, and ’tis true he may make a match for me. But when my father put me in the care of James Stewart it was with the understanding that I would have the final word on a husband,” Cicely told the laird. “My father loved my mother well. He wanted no less for me than a love match. He told the king that I must agree to any match or it could not take place.”
“That is ridiculous!” Ian Douglas burst out, very surprised.
“Hah!” Cicely told him. “Now you see your problem, don’t you, my lord?”
Listening, Fergus Douglas was astounded by her words. Here was something his brother had not considered when he stole away the lovely girl he called his ladyfaire. His horse came to a sudden stop, and the younger man realized that they had reached the house. He slid from his animal’s back and tossed the reins to the boy who had run from the stables.
“We will not discuss this before my servants,” the laird said, his voice now hard. He dismounted, and then, going to Cicely’s horse, helped her off the beast. “Come into the hall. The rain is getting heavier, and it is almost night.” He took her hand in his.
