‘Horrible! Tell me more about when you were all children?’ He began to tell her of various escapades. It seemed her new husband had always been an angelic little boy and even Walter had helped to protect him from danger or from his father’s wrath when they had played forbidden pranks. Isabel could have listened to his deep pleasant voice all day, especially when she detected laughter in it at some memory or other but he took her by surprise when he declared,
‘I am going to remove my boots and hose and dip my feet in the cool stream. Shall I undo the laces on your boots for you? You will find the running water refreshing.
‘Oh, I don’t think I ought to do that, not when I am here alone with you.’ Zander threw back his head with a spontaneous laugh.
‘What difference does it make? We are here alone anyway, Isabella, but you are perfectly safe.’ His face grew serious. ‘You are the wife of my cousin.’
‘I was Henry’s wife last night but y-you kissed m-me.’ Her cheeks burned afresh at the memory and she bit her lower lip. It was not something Zander would ever forget either but he could never let her know how much he craved a repetition.
‘Henry is uncomfortable undressing in front of anyone. I thought he would be grateful if I distracted your attention,’ he said lightly.
‘Oh! I see.’ Isabella felt deflated. So he had not kissed her because it gave him pleasure, as it had given her. She tossed her head and turned from his laughing blue eyes while she deftly untied the laces of her boots and pulled them off, quickly followed by her long woollen stockings. Although she did it discreetly Zander’s eyes widened in surprise and he wondered how she would get them on again without him seeing a long length of her slender white legs. The thought aroused his desire and he cursed silently to himself. He must resist every temptation.
The ice cold water made Isabella yelp. Her toes tingled but it was deliciously refreshing. She would have spent longer but Zander reminded her they would need to dry themselves in the sun so they could put on their boots before Walter and Thomas returned. He stretched out on his back with his arms behind his head and closed his eyes. Isabella wondered if he was closing them to give her some privacy, but she soon realised he was sound asleep.
After he had left her the previous evening Zander had drunk freely of his uncle’s French brandy, hoping to drown the memory of her in bed with her mouth so soft and responsive to his kiss, so innocent. He didn’t want to think of Henry’s fumbling efforts to make love to her or the pain he might unwittingly inflict. When he went to bed, sleep evaded him and he had had risen early to see Jamie and Sam on their homeward journey. This morning Zander felt relaxed and happy again, convinced the girl beside him was as innocent still as when he left her last night. He fell into a deep sleep.
He wakened to find Isabella shaking him. He sat up, rubbing his eyes, smiling apologetically at her.
‘I heard a whistle. Walter and Thomas have returned.’ He jumped to his feet, then remembered they were bare. He put two fingers in his mouth and gave a piercing whistle to let his friends know they were here and safe. Hastily he pulled on his hose and boots. Walter gave him a wry look and even Thomas raised his eyebrows when he and Isabella appeared. Isabella had managed to tidy her hair a little but Zander looked dishevelled and sleepy.
‘There’s no need to look like that,’ he snapped at Walter. ‘I didn’t sleep well last night and I fell asleep in the sun.’
‘Mmm, whatever you say,’ Walter said doubtfully.
‘It is true,’ Isabella giggled. ‘He looked as peaceful as a little boy, and almost as innocent.’ The two men stared at her. They realised she was speaking the truth. Zander recovered his good spirits and the happiness which had bubbled inside him as he fell asleep.
‘You were supposed to be guarding the horses. Where is the mare belonging to Mistress Douglas?’ Thomas asked. It took Isabella a moment to understand he was referring to her but Beauty was nowhere to be seen. Isabella called her name but she did not come cantering as she usually did.
‘She is probably too far away to hear your voice,’ Zander said. ‘You will have to train her to come when you whistle.’
‘But I can’t whistle,’ Isabella protested. ‘What if she is lost?’ The three men looked at the ground and walked further along the valley until there was no sign of the grass being cropped or droppings left from the horses.
‘She must have gone towards home,’ Thomas said.
‘The only home she knows is across the marshes,’ Isabella protested, swallowing a lump in her throat.
‘She didna go that way, Mistress, or we should have seen her,’ Walter reassured her. ‘She’ll have gone back to where she last had her oats.’
‘He’s right, Isabella,’ Zander said. ‘You’ll need to ride with me,’ and before she could reply his hands clasped her waist and lifted her onto his horse. He vaulted up behind her, holding her safely with one arm while he guided his horse with the other. Walter grinned and raised an eyebrow but Isabella did not see Zander’s warning scowl at his friend’s silent teasing.
Isabella felt safe and warm cradled against Zander’s broad chest but she was anxious about her little mare.
‘Beauty is the only link with home I have now,’ she said in a low voice, ‘I do hope we find her.’
‘This is your home now, Isabella, and we are your friends,’ Zander replied softly. ‘We shall find Beauty, I promise.’
They were almost within sight of the courtyard when Isabella called joyously,
‘There she is! There’s Beauty grazing happily. Beauty-eee,’ she called. The mare pricked up her ears at the familiar voice and came cantering towards them. Walter leapt from his horse and held up his arms to Isabella.
‘I think it best if she rides the rest of the way home on her own horse,’ he said. ‘After the brandy your uncle swallowed last night he might explode if anything displeases him.’ Zander knew what he meant but he was too happy to care after spending the morning in Isabella’s company.
They were surprised when William Douglas greeted them, smiling broadly, not even asking why Isabella had gone with them on her own. He was in excellent mood. Her new father-in-law strode towards Isabella and helped her dismount.
‘He’s lucky, that brother of yours, m’dear. Did you set him on his journey?’
‘We did.’
‘Good. I expect you would like to go to your husband now. He and Anna are inspecting the garden. He tells me you would like to grow some plants and have a patch of your own. We shall do all we can to please you. You go and tell Henry what you want him to do, m’dear.’
The three young men listened in surprise, their eyebrows raised at Sir William’s evident satisfaction with his son and his new daughter. They watched Isabella walk across the courtyard.
‘We’ve made a man of my laddie at last,’ William said triumphantly, turning back to face Zander and his friends. ‘I’d begun to wonder if he’d ever act like a normal man but even a monk would find it hard to resist such a pretty young wife.’
It was later that day when Zander learned the reason for his uncle’s jubilation. He knew the servants gossiped and they were curious about Henry and his young bride so they all knew about the blood stained sheet which Lizzie had brought for washing after she had been to their bedchamber that morning.
‘I could have sworn she was a virgin still,’ Walter muttered to Zander when they were alone together. Zander was in no mood to discuss his cousin and Walter guessed the reason for his friend’s dark mood. He did not speak to Isabella or Henry during the rest of the day.
The following morning Zander was finishing breaking his fast when Anna and his uncle joined him.
‘I have decided to go on a journey,’ he announced brusquely. ‘I shall go west towards Dumfries town. I have a desire to see the ships which sail up the Nith river.’
‘You’re not planning to sail away on one, are you?’ his uncle asked.
‘Maybe. Henry does not need me to watch over him now he has a wife,’
he added, unable to hide his discontent.
‘Then you must take some trustworthy men with you. I hear the Johnstones and the Maxwells are constantly at war. You must not to get involved. Remember the wardens have the same powers over the West March as I have here.’
‘I am in need of adventure,’ Zandar replied.
‘Then please do not take Walter with you,’ Anna pleaded. ‘I do not want to be a widow before I have been a wife, as your own mother was, Zander.’ William Douglas frowned at her.
‘What can you know of your Aunt ? She died before you were born.’
‘I know she loved you, Father, and that you were going to marry her but you went away.’
‘I had to go abroad or end up as a prisoner in Edinburgh, and probably a dead man. Alexander, will you be bringing back some pretty trinkets for Anna?’ he asked deliberately changing the subject.
‘Is there anything you would like, Anna?’
‘Oh yes please. If you see silks or velvets Isabella and I would like some to make new dresses. Isabella needs several for daily wear but we shall weave some fine wool for winter. I know she longs for a needle case with different sizes of metal needles. Her father gave her one but she left all her treasures behind when she came here to offer her life to save her brother. She will need a special dress for my wedding too. Will you be back in time?’
‘Maybe Isabella will not fit into a special dress in six months,’ her father said smugly. Anna flushed a little and didn’t reply. Zander wondered if she knew and if she was as amazed as he was to discover Henry had managed to make love to his new wife. He did not care to dwell on such matters. The sooner he got away the better.
‘I fear Walter will not be happy at being left behind,’ he said.
‘If he truly loves me he will not go,’ Anna said with certainty.
***
Isabella had plenty to keep her occupied but she missed Zander’s presence more than she had expected considering she had known him so short a time. She and Anna worked with the women in the kitchens, making bread and ale, churning butter from the milk cows, taking a turn at milking. She was pleased and proud that her mother had taught her well. Even Eliza grumbled less at the young maids who came from the village to help and to learn. In the afternoons there was spinning and weaving to do, garments to make, or to mend. Above all Isabella was delighted with the area which Henry had set aside for her garden. He had not only built two walls for shelter from the wind, but he had repaired the wattle fence on the other side and designed a stone seat big enough for two where she could rest. He had devised pillars to hold up a small roof so that she could shelter from a sudden shower. He instructed two of the men to clear thorny branches and an area overgrown with weeds, but the days were growing shorter and cooler and she knew she must wait until spring before she could grow plants for food. Sometimes travelers passed through and stayed a night but none of them brought news of Zander and none ever ventured over the marshlands in the direction of her family. There were so many things she longed to ask her mother. There were several bee hives and she helped Henry attend to them and asked him if he could mend the two rickety ones so they could keep more.
‘We can never have enough honey,’ she said.
‘I will do better than that. Old Hubert is good with wood. I will ask him to help me make two new ones.’
‘That would be lovely. We might entice a new swarm of bees to occupy one of them.’ She would have hugged him in gratitude but she knew now that he did not like close contact. So long as she was content to sleep with the long pillow between them and she made no personal demands on him, Henry was eager to do anything which made her happy. She was pleasantly surprised at the things he had learned from the elderly monk who had taught him and Zander to read and write and count. He knew more about bees than she did herself and he even understood that saving barm from the ale, or a piece of dough from the last baking, helped the bread to rise and made it lighter, though neither of them knew why this should be. He showed her where the wild raspberries grew and asked one of the men to dig some up for her to plant in the garden so she could cultivate them and have them nearby. He brought her plants of wild garlic and thyme, sage and mint.
It pleased William to see his son at ease and chatting amiably with Isabella. Sometimes he saw shadows in her lovely eyes and supposed she must miss her family, though she was usually content in her new surroundings and never complained. He saw how much the garden meant to her and made up his mind to take a couple of men and travel south to see what he could buy, or order, from the captains of the boats which came in from France or Holland.
‘I hear we need more salt to preserve the beef and lamb before winter sets in,’ he said at breakfast one morning. ‘Now the grain is gathered in I shall journey to the port of Annan. There is no word to say when Zander will return so I shall leave you in charge here, Walter. Don’t let the guards be idle.’
‘Father, I would like to take my spinning wheel with me if I may, when I marry Walter,’ Anna said. ‘Isabella is very quick with the spindle and distaff but she was used to having a spinning wheel of her own. I’m sure she would like to have another.’
‘I will see what I can get. I must contact the French smugglers and bargain for more brandy before your wedding. It is a good thing the wool merchants gave a fair price for our wool this year.’
Isabella knew that reivers were more active on moonlight nights between Michaelmas and Martinmas, at the end of November. The days were already shorter so she was relieved to know Walter would stay behind to organise defences if they were needed. She was developing a warm affection for Henry, as all the women around him seemed to do, but she knew he would be little use at defending Moyenstane Tower, or the village and barns if a ruthless band of raiders came. Indeed he might be many miles away. On moonlight nights he opened the shutters to let in the silvery light. Twice she had wakened to see him pressing the oak panel on the far side of their bedchamber and then he had disappeared. She assumed it must be some sort of secret stairway. Once, after a great deal of fumbling and searching she managed to open the panel herself. She was faced with a blank stone wall. It was only after she felt carefully along that she discovered there was a narrow opening at the end. Even a slim man like Henry would have to edge sideways a step at a time, she thought. Isabella hoped she would never need to escape that way herself.
She longed for news of her family and to know whether Jamie had dealt with the Truddles. She always had a vague fear they might seek revenge on the Douglas Clan for setting her brother free. They believed that all property was common by the laws of nature and Neb Truddle had sneered at the laws King James had introduced regarding those who lived on the fringes of his two kingdoms. The wardens in all six Marches, on both sides of the border, were being paid a hundred pounds a year to enforce peace and harmony but Isabella doubted if Neb Truddle and his father knew the meaning of harmony. She wished Zander would return. What was keeping him away so long. Had he been injured, or even killed? Journeying was a dangerous occupation.
She mentioned her fears about the Truddles to Walter one morning when they were alone.
‘Sir William trained all his men well, and now he trusts Zander to do the same. I usually help him too,’ he said reassuringly. ‘I’d stake my life on their loyalty. Talk is cheap for men like Truddle but remember “they may take who have the power, and they may keep who can.” I believe the Truddles must be a cowardly lot from what Sam told us. The foul trick they played on your brother proves it. They didn’t have the courage to kill him outright. They wanted him hung by others.’ His face lightened in a grin. ‘Remember I have a very precious hostage living here. You can be sure I shall defend Moyenstane Tower and everyone in it with my last breath.’
The weeks wore on. William Douglas and his small retinue returned laden with brandy and salt and some rolls of silk, velvet and linen securely tied up and wrapped in oiled cloth to protect the contents from the weather, but most welcome of all to Isabella was th
e news that they had made a detour and called at Braidlands to enquire after Jamie and Sam and bring her news of her family. They had stayed a night and been well fortified for the remaining three days of their journey back to Moyenstane.
‘Your mother and sister have written letters to you, Isabella. We could have been home two days ago if we had allowed Sam to guide us across the marshes to the foot of the mountains but I dare not risk it with two laden mules and my men.’
‘I am glad you are safely home now,’ Isabella said, her grey eyes shining. The letters from her family meant far more to her than the beautiful materials or the new spinning wheel. Marjorie was not yet so free with her writing and Isabella could tell she had wanted to keep the letter neat. She could imagine her concentrating hard with the tip of her little tongue between her lips, but she had given her lots of news. Both she and Margaret now had a pony of their own and Sam was teaching them to ride safely. Mary had tried to draw her a picture of the horses and her own pet pig. There were several small blots obscuring her valiant effort. Best of all was the cheerful letter from her mother, telling her she had always known the Douglas family would be honourable and she was grateful for the sacrifice Isabella had made to secure Jamie’s freedom and send him back to his family. He had taken Sam and three other trusted men over to the Truddles and demanded the return of May, his beloved mare. They had been so shocked to see him alive, and free to go about his business, they had handed over the mare at once as well as six fine cattle which they had stolen. Following the advice William Douglas had given him when he left Moyenstane, Jamie had threatened to report them to the King’s officers of justice who would take them to the Tolbooth in Edinburgh to await trial and probable hanging if they offended again.
‘ Since then only an odd animal has disappeared. Jamie and his men gathered in all the wheat without any being destroyed by fires, as so often happened in the past. If we are careful we should be able to eat bread almost every week for most of the year and we have had a good harvest of oats, also safely gathered in. I hope and pray this peace will last but I doubt if it is in the nature of the Truddle family to live in peace but they fear for their lives if they venture to raid farms on the English side of the border now.
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