Lord Grey nodded. “Can I see her?” he asked.
“I don’t see why not,” Cicely said.
Lord Grey almost ran from the hall.
“I shall go to my church and pray for them,” Father Ambrose said. “I’ll stop at the midwife’s cottage if you want,” he offered.
“Thank you,” Cicely replied. Then she joined the laird and Sir William. “Maggie is going to have her baby,” she told them.
“There hasn’t been a bairn born in this house since Fergus,” the laird noted. “May this one be the first of many. Will you give me many bairns, ladyfaire?”
“My lord! I have not said I would marry you,” Cicely protested.
“You will have to if our bairns are to be legitimate,” he teased her.
Cicely stamped her foot at him. “The king wants me to wed Fairlea,” she said.
“If the king could give the Gordon of Fairlea another equally suitable bride,” Sir William asked, “would you consider my kinsman’s suit, Lady Cicely?”
Cicely looked surprised by the question. “All the queen’s ladies but for me are Scots,” she told him. “And none have my birth or dower, Sir William.”
“Do you know the queen’s cousin, Elizabeth Williams?” he inquired of her.
“Aye, I do,” Cicely said slowly. “She was with us for a short time in Queen Joan of Navarre’s household. When we were brought to Queen Katherine’s court she was sent elsewhere. Why?”
“She is now with our Queen Joan, and while she has not your dower, madam, she is blood kin to the queen, and would be a more than suitable match for the Gordons,” Sir William told Cicely quietly. “You will understand that my loyalty to my own kin leads me to suggest such a match to the king so Ian might pursue and win you for his wife.”
She was astounded by his words, and wondered if she should notbe offended at his suggestion that she might be replaced so easily in the laird of Fairlea’s affections. But then Cicely considered that Andrew Gordon had never declared his love for her, and as much as she disliked admitting to it, she suspected he was pursuing her for her dower and her connection to Jo. If the king decided to abandon her—which he might well do, for he did have greater problems to attend to—then he would see that Beth Williams’s dower was good enough for the Gordons, and her blood tie to the queen actually made her a better match than Cicely, with her large dower and close friendship with Scotland’s queen.
“The queen would never desert me,” Cicely said defiantly.
“Of course she will not, for you are her friend,” Sir William noted. “But it is not the queen who will decide this matter, Lady Cicely. It is King James. If he can put both the Douglases and the Gordons in his debt he will do it, I assure you.”
Aye, he would, and Cicely knew it. James Stewart was a charming man, but he was also a hard man who was determined to bring all of Scotland under his rule. The border lords would be loyal, even those with closer ties to England, because of Joan Beaufort. But James would need to spend all his time and his energies to bring the north to heel before he would be satisfied. And while he loved Jo and would do much for her, he would not endanger his plans for her best friend.
“You don’t love Fairlea,” Ian said.
She glared at him. “This is not your decision to make, my lord,” Cicely snapped. “If the Gordons will have Beth Williams then they will have her, but it does not mean I must have you for my husband. Remember the choice ismineto make. Not yours.” She hated being hedged in, Cicely thought.
Ian had already realized that, and so now he said to her, “Give me a chance, ladyfaire. Are you not already mistress here, and comfortable?”
“There is much to be done before Glengorm is truly habitable,” Cicely said.
“I will share your dower with you,” Ian Douglas told her.
“What?” She looked startled.
“You may keep half of your dower for yourself, to do with as you choose. The other half will be mine. Sir William has heard me say it, and Ambrose will make it a condition of our betrothal and marriage,” the laird promised her.
Cicely was very surprised by his words. She knew without even thinking about it that Andrew Gordon would not have suggested such a thing to her. She would have been dependent upon her husband for everything for the rest of her life. But if Ian Douglas meant what he was saying, then she would have the freedom within her marriage that she sensed she needed. “You may court me,” Cicely told him, “but that does not mean I have agreed to wed you, my lord.”
“I understand,” he replied, his heart soaring with pleasure. He was winning her over at last, and soon she would be his wife.
Sir William smiled, well pleased. Now all he had to do was convince the king that the queen’s cousin would be a better match for the laird of Fairlea, and that Ian Douglas was the right husband for Lady Cicely Bowen.
The village midwife bustled into the hall. “Where is the laboring lass?” she asked. “Good evening to you, my lords.” She curtsied.
“Upstairs,” Cicely said. “Lady Grey has gone into labor with her first child,” she explained. “Her husband and my tiring woman are with her. Mab is gathering supplies.”
