“She has a bath waiting? How did she manage that?” Ian Douglas said to his uncle. “If I want a bath I have to swim in the loch.”
“Perhaps you have never asked as nicely as she has for what she wants, nephew. You roar your orders. The lady is courteous. She asks and she says thank you. I am pleased you thanked her for what she did this day. It was well-done, and if you continue to behave in a civilized manner you may have a chance with her.”
“She’s sleeping in my mother’s chamber tonight,” the laird said slowly.
“Aye, Mab and her kin spent the day cleaning. The lad Gabhan swept the chimney directly after the morning meal. I am told he removed three rooks’ nests,” the priest said. “Then the women cleaned and freshened the chamber for the lady. She will be comfortable tonight, and if she begins to become more content and your rough manners improve, you will please her well.”
“Ambrose, I have never felt this way before,” the younger man admitted. “It isn’t just lust, though I will admit to wanting to bed her. I know that compared to Gordon I am roughshod and wild. But if she came to me in nothing but her chemise I would want her to wife. She is beautiful, is she not? That rich auburn hair! Those blue-green eyes! I could lose myself in those eyes forever, Uncle. At the sound of her sweet voice my heart leaps. Even when she is scoldingme.” He laughed ruefully. “I do not believe that I can live without my ladyfaire.”
“God’s balls, nephew!” Ambrose Douglas exclaimed. “You are indeed in love, and may God and his Blessed Mother have mercy upon you. Well, you probably have two or three days in which to win your ladyfaire over. I will pray that you can.” He arose. “Well, I am off to my bed, having been so well fed. It probably wouldn’t harm your cause to come to Mass on the morrow.” Then the priest strode out of the hall.
The laird came down from his high board and sat for a brief few minutes by the fire. Aye, he would go to Mass tomorrow. It would please his ladyfaire, he had not a doubt. He thought of Andrew Gordon. He didn’t want to be like him, but certainly he could change enough to win Cicely over.“Cicely,”he whispered her name aloud.
“If you need nothing more, my lord, I will go to my kitchens.” Mab was by his side. “The lady is settled.”
“What are you carrying?” he asked.
“Her clothing. It needs attention, for she had been wearing it for several days. I found a chemise that belonged to your mother, and gave it to her to sleep in. You mother has been gone for years, yet there this garment was, neat and clean, in the trunk.” She curtsied and left him after seeing there was nothing more he needed.
The laird stood up. It was time to make his rounds to ascertain that the house was safe for the night. He barred the doors. Snuffed the candles. Banked the fire in the hall and ascended the stairs to his bedchamber. In the upstairs hallway he heard her singing softly, and determined to stop so he might bid her good night. Knocking upon her door, he opened it and stepped into the chamber.
“My lord!”Cicely scrunched down in the small oak tub, clutching the washing cloth to her breasts.Blessed Mother!She had never felt so vulnerable in all of her life as she did at this very minute. Would he force her to his will, thereby sealing her fate?
“I came to say good night,” Ian said, as if bidding such a sentimentto a lady in her bath were quite normal, and something he did regularly. “Do not worry, ladyfaire. You are so hunched over there is little but the graceful angle of your back that is visible to me.” He grinned wickedly. “That and your beautiful, outraged face.”
“Go away!” she said, attempting to shrink herself further from his bold look.
“I can see you will need a larger tub,” he said thoughtfully. “I will order the cooper in the village to begin building one tomorrow, madam.”
“Do not waste his time,” Cicely snapped. “I will certainly be returning to Perth shortly, my lord. I’m quite certain the king’s men will be here for me tomorrow.”
Ian could scarcely take his eyes from her. Her rich, long auburn hair piled atop her head, obviously newly washed. The creaminess of her skin. And those blue-green eyes! He watched those eyes widen as he walked to where she sat in the small tub. She almost cowered from him as he reached out to tip her face to his. She was helpless to resist him else she reveal that which should not be seen. He bent, and his lips touched hers, gently at first, and then more fiercely.
Her heart was beating so rapidly that she could hear the sound of it in her ears, but when his mouth closed over hers Cicely could not resist kissing him back.Blessed Mother,she thought to herself.What am I doing?But she simply couldn’t help herself. There was something so compelling about his kiss, she was unable to withstand him.
He broke off the embrace, smiling down into her face. “Good night, ladyfaire,” he said, and then he left her.
Cicely sat in the cooling tub for several minutes. This was madness. It had to stop. His kisses left her weakened. And what would happen when he did not stop at one kiss? What would happen if one kiss blended into another and another? The very thought of it made her sigh with longing, and that was terrible. Did their kiss make him feel the same way as she did? Probably not. Men were freer with their kisses than respectable girls were. And again the notion slipped intoher thoughts that Andrew Gordon had never made her feel the way Ian Douglas did.
She had to escape the laird of Glengorm before she allowed herself to do something very foolish. Surely her rescuers would be here tomorrow.
But they were not. It wasn’t until the tenth day of her captivity that Sir William Douglas and his party rode into Glengorm, even as an icy rain was beginning to fall.
Chapter 8
Maggie MacLeod, wife to Andrew Grey, laird of Ben Duff, was helped into Glengorm’s hall, supported by her husband and Orva. The child in her belly was going to be born soon, and there was no denying it. The hall was warm and inviting. Once Maggie was safely seated by the hearth Orva looked about. She and Cicely spotted each other at the same time, and flew into each other’s arms.
“Ohh, my baby, have you been harmed?” Orva said, stepping back and looking her young mistress over carefully. “I will kill the brute myself with my bare hands!”
“Only my pride,” Cicely said wryly. Taking Orva’s hand, she walked across the hall to where her guests were being greeted by Ian Douglas. “Maggie.” She signaled to Tam to bring refreshments. “You are as pale as the moon.”
“I think my bairn is coming,” Maggie said softly. “Perhaps I’m just weary, so make no fuss lest you frighten my poor Andrew.” She accepted a small dram of whiskey that Tam offered her and, sipping it, closed her eyes.
“I’ll have a chamber made ready for you,” Cicely said. “Tam, fetch Sine to me.”
“You speak like the mistress here,” Maggie noted.
“I have spent my time awaiting my rescue putting the laird’s house in order. It was a pigsty when we arrived ten days ago. I’ve broughtin staff from the village, and the laird sent the housekeeper, a nasty creature named Bethia, packing. The cook, Mab, has been a godsend. Who is that with your husband?”
