Mary Douglas was astute to understand the way of their world. But before Sir William departed for Perth, where the king was now in residence for the winter, he called his son Kier to him. The two men met privily in Sir William’s small library, where father invited son to join him in a comfortable chair by the fire, a dram of whiskey in each of their hands.
Kier Douglas was a tall, slender man with hair as black as a moonless night. He kept it cropped short, for he had no patience to bother with longer locks. His eyes were a startling blue, light, yet rich and deep in color. Those eyes now looked directly at his father curiously. “What happened at Glengorm that they needed you?” he asked his sire.
“Ian Douglas and his younger brother, Fergus, are both dead,” Sir William said.
His son raised a questioning thick black eyebrow.
“The Grahames raided earlier in the autumn. Glengorm went over the border and took back what was his, killing several of the English in the process. Ben Duff was with him, for he too had been raided. Several weeks passed and the Grahames returned to demand a parley with Glengorm. They massed themselves across that little loch bordering his village and meadows.” Sir William sipped at his whiskey, then continued.
“When Glengorm honored their request, the Grahames launched a flight of arrows across the span separating them. Fergus Douglas was killed when he threw himself in front of his brother to protect him, but Ian nonetheless sustained two wounds. The damned young fool broke the shafts of the arrows piercing him, rallied his men, and rode across the loch after the Grahames, who had now taken flight,” Sir William said.
“He rodeacrossthe water?” Kier Douglas was impressed. “Hewas wasting no time, was he? He caught up with the Grahames, I assume.”
“And put all in the raiding party to the sword. The carrion birds hung above the hills for days, I’m told,” his sire replied.
“Why did he die?” The younger man put his booted feet towards the fire.
“One of his wounds wouldn’t heal,” Sir William said. “He finally succumbed to it, leaving a young wife who is carrying their first child, and no other male heir in the direct line but for the priest, Father Ambrose Douglas. Fergus Douglas had a wife, but he produced only two little daughters. Both Ian’s widow and her unborn child stand in danger of being taken over by some other family. But it’s Douglas land, and I won’t have it fall into the hands of some other clan.”
Kier Douglas knew what was coming. He drew his feet back from the hearth.
“I want you to go to Glengorm,” his father said. “If the widow births a son you will remain to help raise him. But if she births a daughter I will make you laird of Glengorm, and your male heirs after you.”
“And the widow?” Kier inquired casually.
“There’s none that I know of who engages your heart,” Sir William said, “and ’tis past time you married, Kier.”
“Is the widow to have no say in it?” the younger man asked. “Or will she do as she is told, like all women being bartered into wedlock?”
His father smiled. “Ogilvie’s daughter was ten years ago, Kier, and you are long past sulking. Her father didn’t think you good enough for his lass. I think you were too good for her. Your mother was a Stewart. Glengorm’s widow will be practical, for her child’s sake if not for her own. Woo her if you will, for your reputation for wooing is formidable, my son. But when the night falls marry her, bed her, and get bairns on her.”
“What is she like?” Kier wanted to know.
“Auburn hair. Blue-green eyes. English,” Sir William replied.
“English?You want me to take an English wife?”
“If an English wife is good enough for the king, an English wife is good enough for you, my son. Lady Cicely was Queen Joan’s closest friend. She came with her from England. It’s an excellent match for you. Her father is an earl.”
“And she married a border lord?” Kier Douglas was surprised. “What aren’t you telling me, Da? There’s more to it, isn’t there?”
“Aye, there’s a story there,” his father answered, chuckling. “Get her to tell you how it came about that she wed Ian Douglas. You’ll be amused. Your cousin Ian was a bold man as well as a brave one, and he loved his wife deeply.”
“When do you want me to go?” Kier asked his sire.
“Immediately,” the older man answered. “I don’t want Glengorm unprotected with winter setting in, and once word of Ian Douglas’s death gets about, the avaricious will begin to gather. The lady and her folk are very vulnerable. The captain of the men-at-arms there is one Frang. Make him your ally. He’s loyal to Glengorm.”
Kier Douglas drained his dram cup, then stood up. “I’ll be gone before first light. There’s a border moon, and if I leave early I can reach Glengorm by afternoon.” He stood up and held out his hand to Sir William. “Thank you, my lord, for this opportunity,” he told his father. “I will not disappoint you.”
Sir William rose to his feet and shook his son’s hand. “I know you won’t,” he told him. “I am proud of you as your mother would have been. You’re a fine man.” Then he clapped the younger man on the back and sent him off.
Kier Douglas walked upstairs to his chamber, calling out for his servant, Quin. “We’re leaving Drumlanrig,” he said, “and going to Glengorm.”
“ ’Tis not even civilized at Glengorm,” Quin answered his master.
Kier laughed aloud. “Perhaps not. I’ve never been there, but unless you want a new master you’ll come with me, for it’s to be our new home.”
“Leave you? Never, sir! I’ve been with you since you were five, and your da took you away from the old woman in the nursery of the house,” Quin responded indignantly.
