When she awoke Cicely found herself alone. A bright fire burned in her hearth. She had been carefully tucked beneath the coverlet, and her two white terriers were sleeping in their usual spot by the fireplace. Had she had some wicked erotic dream? she wondered. Or had Kier Douglas forced her to his will? Aye, it was a dream! But she knew it wasn’t so. Her body ached with a delicious soreness that only a bout of fierce lovemaking could produce. Her thighs were sticky with their combined juices. And to her shame she had enjoyed every minute of their passionate encounter.
Well, why not? They would be wed. And if she did not love him, at least if she was expected to bear him a son she should enjoy his attentions. But she would make him wait longer before she would say her vows. That much control over her life would be hers. She would speakto the priest. She knew now how she would revenge herself on Kier for the night past. Cicely turned over and fell into a satisfied sleep.
But Kier Douglas had no intention of waiting until June first to marry Cicely. At first light he arose, dressed himself, and went to Mass in the village church, that he might speak with the priest afterwards. “Come up to the hall with me and break your fast,” Kier invited Ambrose Douglas after the Mass was concluded. “We’ll talk along the way.”
The priest looked closely at his companion. “The rumor is that a messenger came from the king yesterday,” he said as they left the church.
Kier nodded. “Aye, James has ordered me to wed Cicely without delay, and according to her the queen’s message promised that her entire dower would be restored.”
“Your da will be pleased,” Ambrose Douglas said.
“You’ve drawn up the contracts, I assume?” Kier asked him.
“Aye,” the priest replied. “When Sir William told me what he wanted I did it. Has Cicely become more reasonable, then?”
“Cicely will do as she is bidden,” Kier Douglas told his companion.
The priest barked his laughter. “Ha! Ha, ha! You are a fool if you believe that, my lord of Glengorm.”
“I bedded her last night,” Kier announced. “She’ll wed me now without any ado.”
“I will not countenance any rape!” the priest said in a hard voice.
“There was no rape, Ambrose. Just gentle persuasion,” Kier assured him. “I am ordered to remain on my lands until she has delivered me a son. There is going to be war in the north, and those doing the king good service will be rewarded for that loyalty. And where will I be? Nay, I want her with child as quickly as possible. I want that son born so I may share in some of the glory.”
“Even if you got her with child last night, it will still be months before a child is born, and it could be another daughter, Kier,” thepriest said. “You had best make peace with your ambitions. You’re a border lord. Nothing more.”
Kier was silent; then he said, “I know you’re right, Ambrose, but I want more. I always have. Perhaps it is the circumstances of my birth. I have a blood tie with this king through my mother, God assoil her good soul.”
“Listen to me, Kier. I do not deny what you are saying, but kings are the most fickle of men, and this Stewart in particular. How much of his own family’s blood has he spilled since his return? Like me, you’re bastard-born, but you’ve been fortunate in life. Your father’s wife loved and raised you as if you were her own natural bairn. Your father has loved you, and has given you a lordship you would not otherwise have had were it not for the death of your cousin Ian, and Sir William’s intercession with this king. You are being given an heiress wife who has already proved fertile. With God’s blessing she will give you bairns of your own blood. Be satisfied, man. Do not tempt fortune,” the priest warned the new laird. “What you have now is more than most men ever get.”
The new laird of Glengorm sighed. “I suppose there is time for my ambition. It isn’t as if this will be the only battle King James fights,” he reasoned.
Ambrose Douglas smiled. “Aye, your ambition can wait. Now you must come to some kind of an accommodation with Cicely. She is a proud woman, if not just a little spoiled. If you cannot love her then you must at least try to become friends with her.”
“What was her father thinking that he made her such a ridiculous promise?” Kier wondered aloud. “Women don’t choose their husbands.”
“Most don’t, ’tis true,” the priest agreed. “Men are wiser and have clearer heads when it comes to picking a husband for their daughters. But this Earl of Leighton was letting his daughter go off to an unknown land. He was not a man of the English court, and did notknow James Stewart. He trusted his daughter to choose her husband before he would trust a stranger to do it, since he could not.”
“I wonder if he would have approved of Ian, or of me,” Kier said.
The priest laughed. “You just need Cicely to approve of you, my son. And if I might make a suggestion, I would propose you not use so heavy a hand with the lady. Women have subtle ways of taking their revenge, and when they do you will find it is not to your liking.” He chuckled darkly.
They reached the house and, entering the hall, found Cicely there directing the servants to bring the morning meal. Seeing the priest she ran to him. “Father Ambrose! Father Ambrose! You must convince the new laird that if we are to wed I need time first to mourn my beloved Ian. He is dead but six months. My husband is entitled to more respect than his cousin is willing to give him. Ian’s love for me was more deserving. My lord Kier says we must marry on the first day of June.” And Cicely sobbed a small sob, turning her head from them in feigned distress.
Both the priest and the laird knew she was lying. Ambrose Douglas almost laughed aloud. Had he not just warned Kier? The servants in the hall were pretending not to listen, but they were. And they would gossip of what happened here this day. If the new lord of Glengorm did not agree, or at least compromise, it would take years for him to regain the respect of the village folk. If indeed he ever could.
But Kier was not thinking about that.“Madam!”he thundered at her.
Cicely pretended to cringe away from him, giving a little cry of distress as her hand flew to her mouth.
Again the priest was forced to restrain his laughter. He was going to have to do something quickly, before Sir William’s normally prudent son did something foolish. “My children,” he said in his quiet yet strong voice. “Let us break our fast first, and then we will discuss this matter, for it is important not only to you, but to all of Glengorm.Come, come to the table.” He led them to the high board. “My child,” he said to Cicely as he drew out her chair for her, “we missed you at the Mass this morning.”
“Forgive me, good Father, but before I can set foot in our wee church again I must make my confession to you,” Cicely said softly, but quite distinctly.
“You vixen,” Kier hissed at her. His blue eyes were hard.
“My lord, do not shame me publicly,” Cicely murmured, “lest I be forced to stronger measures.” She gave him a wicked little smile.
