Douglas Castle and its warriors sworn to do his bidding.
At least while their elder brother was gone to England, William had full control over all that Roger had inherited, which gave him immense satisfaction.
Hewas managing affairs just fine so the lairdship would not fall into ruins, Roger be damned. William took another long draft of ale, emptying his cup, and then slammed it down upon the table.
“More drink and be quick about it!”
A redheaded serving maid hastened forward to fill his cup to the brim with the frothy liquid, his gaze levelled upon her full breasts straining at her bodice.
He had enjoyed this wench before, and he would again, tonight. She was plain as a fence post, but her well-rounded body was warm and willing.
He liked his women on the plumper side, anyway, her ample hips beckoning to him as she sauntered away, casting a saucy backwards glance at him. Her belly had looked more rounded to him, too—och, what of it? He had sired bastards before.
“For shame, William—one of Roger’s maidservants,” Evander chided him, which made William curse foully and glare at his brother.
“So you noticed she was breeding, too. Amazing, given you haven’t seen a woman naked for years. Dinna you miss the pleasures of the flesh, Father Petros?”
Evander made no reply, though his thin face had reddened, which made William throw back his head and laugh.
“Go on, torment me if you must,” came Evander’s offended response, which made William take another long draft and then lean forward as he wiped the froth from his mouth with the back of his hand.
“What a stick in the swill you’ve become! We used tae have such a fine time together, you and I—sampling the lasses here and there. Do you ever wonder if mayhap you’ve sired a bairn or two in Lanarkshire?”
Now Evander arose in an angry swirl of his priestly robe and pointed his finger at William.
“You would do better tae pray for your debauched soul than wish harm upon Roger. I hope he’s soon home so I dinna have tae listen any longer tae the filth you spew so boldly in his absence!”
“Och, man, sit down and drink with me,” William said with exasperation, yanking on the rope tied around Evander’s waist, but his brother shook his shaven head.
“Much supplication is needed in this place—for you, for Roger’s safe return, for his wee son. It’s time I make my way tae the chapel and then tae bed.”
As Evander made the sign of the Cross over him before hastening away, William hoisted his cup in a mock salute, ale sloshing down his arm.
“Go on, then, pray away—but you’ll not save that mewling pup he sired! A weak bairn from a weak man, aye, what else would you call a laird who grieves more for his dead wife than his own father? A Highland warrior weeping like a child at her burial and not a thimbleful for James Douglas two months later—by God, is no one else disgusted by Roger other than me?”
His incensed query echoing around the great hall, William sank deeper into his chair and drained the last of his cup.
He was drunk and he knew it, but still he waved for more ale.
Drinking was the only thing that helped to temper his barely suppressed rage at being second to Roger—och,third, if he counted that sickly bairn wasting away in his cradle.
Yet soon Roger’s son would die and he would be only a heartbeat away from calling himself Laird William Douglas of Lanarkshire.
Was Roger already struck down on that fool’s mission to York and moldering in his grave? Just as William had told Evander, he could hope and pray for such a miracle—aye, and drink to it, too.
“To the brim, wench!” William held out his cup while the smiling maidservant obliged him and then he pulled her with a feminine squeal onto his lap, the pitcher clattering to the floor and ale splashing everywhere.
All over him and down the front of her tight bodice, William’s drunken laughter joining with her giggles as he buried his face between her breasts.
CHAPTER7
Julianna shifted in the straw and rolled over at the distinct sound of a snore not far from her ear.
Her eyes fluttering open, she gasped to come nose-to-nose with Roger though he slept on, while she scrambled to back away from him.
Dear God, why was he lying so close to her? He had been much further away when she fell asleep last night, she would swear to it!
She blinked at the light filtering through the cracks in the barn walls, which told her it was morning, though still so early that the kindly farmer who had offered them mutton stew and shelter last night hadn’t arrived yet to tend to his animals.
