Amanda Scott - [Border Trilogy Two 02]

by Border Lass

  Garth awoke with a gasp, shaking, to see Amalie by the window in a pale blue, silky-looking robe somewhat too long for her. She gazed out at what was either early dawn or a later, overcast morning. It did not matter to him which it was. He was just glad to be awake and out of his chains, and to see her safe.

  “Good morning,” he said huskily.

  She turned with a smile. “It is going to be a fine day when the sun comes up,” she said. “Tam and Sym rode out a short while ago.”

  “Then they should make Dryburgh in two hours or so, and Hawick by noon,” he said. “You were not thinking of going downstairs to break your fast, were you?”

  “I had not even thought about dressing yet,” she said. “I found this robe of Isabel’s in that kist by the bed, but I don’t know if anyone has told Bess that I am in here, or if Bess would dare to enter whilst you are with me.”

  “I think we will ask them to bring us food here,” he said. “I’d as lief not subject either of us to more of Fife’s company yet, or your brother Simon’s.”

  “I’ll put my head out then and see if I can find someone,” she said.

  “There is no hurry,” he told her.

  “Are you not going to get up?”

  “I would rather get to know my wife better,” he said. “Come here.”

  Her eyes danced. “And if I do not?”

  “Then I will get up and fetch you. But doubtless you will shriek if I do, and the lady Averil will rush in to see who is attacking you.”

  She chuckled. “I think I would rather she did not come in.” With that, she slipped the robe off her shoulders and walked smiling to the bed.

  He held the covers back as his cock stirred to welcome her.

  An hour later, Amalie stirred sleepily on hearing a solid click. Coming wide awake, realizing it was the door latch, she looked first to see that Garth was covered and then at the door as Bess peeped around it.

  “Be ye awake then, mistress?” the maid murmured. “Princess Isabel said I should tell ye that if ye like, she’ll ha’ someone bring food up for the pair o’ ye.”

  Her eyes shifted toward Garth and widened when he turned over and sat up.

  “Sakes,” he said. “What is the hour?”

  “Nigh onto Terce, sir,” Bess said. “Me lord Fife and Simon Murray be near ready to go. The princess said to ask ye did ye want to bid them farewell, m’lady.”

  “No, Bess,” Amalie said. “I shall see them both again soon, so I mean to be lazy this morning. Prithee, do tell the princess we will gratefully accept her offer of food to break our fast and will be downstairs shortly afterward.”

  “Aye, m’lady, I’ll tell her. The lady Sibylla were asking after ye, too.”

  “Thank you, Bess,” Garth said.

  With another startled glance at him, the maid fled.

  “I did not expect to fall asleep again,” Amalie said.

  “Nor I,” he agreed, smiling lazily. “You must have worn me out.”

  She felt heat rush to her cheeks, remembering. Somehow, things she had hitherto thought about only with embarrassment and fear seemed natural, even fun with him. He made her feel desirable and beautiful, and his body fascinated her.

  He encouraged her to explore him while he explored her. And although she felt quite daring in some of the things she had done to and with him, he seemed to delight in all they did. He had even revealed some secrets of her own body to her.

  Remembering that he had to ride to Hawick to meet Archie Douglas, she put aside thoughts of more sex play, and got out of bed. As she slipped Isabel’s robe back on, she hoped Bess would remember to bring her some fresh clothes.

  Garth got up and swiftly donned the clothing he had taken off the night before. “I must go to my chamber and fetch the things I mean to take with me, lass,” he said. “I’ll be only a few minutes, though, if your brother and Fife are safely in the hall or in the stableyard.” He was gone on the words, leaving her alone.

  Bess returned before he did, bearing a tray with a basket of rolls, butter, jelly, two mugs, and a pitcher of ale. “It be all cold food, m’lady,” she said as she set it carefully on a side table. “The princess did say, though, that she’d send someone up with a platter o’ warm sliced beef, too. Shall I fetch your clothes to ye here?”

  “I would like them, aye, the green kirtle and tunic, I think,” Amalie said, wondering what Garth would say if she offered to ride partway with him.

  “No, sweetheart,” he said when he returned. “You’d do better to stay here.”

  “But I’d like to go,” she said. “Is aught amiss that makes you forbid it?”

  “Just a nightmare in which the wind blew you away,” he said with a rueful smile. “I’ve had others in which I fall into a web. But in this last one, I was webbed in chains and as helpless to stop the wind as I’d be to aid you with any trouble you might meet, riding back without me.” Stroking her cheek, he kissed her and murmured, “I don’t want anything to happen to you whilst I am away.”

  His concern warmed her as it always did, but she said, “Why should anything happen? I was safe here for months before you entered Isabel’s service.”

  “Aye, well, it may not have occurred to you yet, but we made a dangerous enemy last night by blocking Fife’s scheme. Whilst he is anywhere about, I want you to stay right here.” He gave her a look. “Don’t defy me in this, lass. I want to know that Isabel and Sir Kenneth are keeping you safe until I return.”

  She did not argue, and twenty minutes after Bess reported that Fife, Simon, and Sir Harald Boyd had crossed the Tweed with Fife’s men, she went with Garth to the stableyard. Six men-at-arms were already mounted and waiting for him.

  Nodding at them, Garth touched her cheek one more time, flicked another glance at the men, and mounted his horse without a word. Then, smiling warmly, he said, “I’ll be back as soon as I can be, sweetheart.”

  Having a strong feeling that he had nearly warned her again to behave herself but had thought better of doing so before the other men, she said demurely, “I hope you will. But which way do you go, sir? Isabel says the best road south from here is the one through Kelso to the Jedburgh road. I think that is how Father went.”

  “Aye, she told me,” he said, his eyes twinkling as if he knew she had read his thoughts. “If I were riding with a large party, I’d take that road. But Fife and Simon are going that way to Elishaw, so I’d liefer avoid it, and I can reach Hawick quicker by riding south from Dryburgh Abbey. The tracks we’ll take are rougher than drove roads, but I’ll have only these few lads with me. We’ll travel swiftly enough.”

  She knew he could not travel swiftly enough to suit her.

  She missed him the moment he was out of sight, and her mood was sober when she joined the other ladies in the hall. That each was aware of her marriage, and that not all were happy about it, did not surprise her.

  Lady Susan shot her numerous, narrowed-eyed looks as they attended their duties, but Amalie ignored her. Lady Averil remained her usual, placid, well-bred self. If she disapproved, Isabel’s heartfelt approval had silenced her, but Averil would not lavish good wishes on one of her charges in any event.

  Lady Nancy, however, did not hesitate to express her delight.

  “So romantic, my dear, and such a surprise to us all,” she said, beaming. “But when did you marry him? I vow I heard not one word of such an astonishing event. Very remiss of you it was not to tell us all and let us celebrate with you.”

  Feeling trapped, Amalie looked around for Isabel, hoping she might intervene. But it was Sibylla who, clearly overhearing despite being some distance away, said with a chuckle, “My dear lady, you should spare the poor child’s blushes. You must know that she did but obey her husband.”

  “Oh, to be sure,” Lady Nancy said, nodding. “Forgive me, my dear.”

  Assuring her ladyship that she took no offense, Amalie drew Sibylla to the lower end of the hall on the pretext of needing her assistance to slip new covers on the cus
hions in the window embrasures. When they were alone there, she said, “How did you dare to say such a thing to her?”

  Sibylla grinned. “You would hardly have thanked me had I explained that it was a marriage by declaration to protect you from a forced one, now would you?”

  “Faith, Sibylla, you are a witch!”

  Sibylla shook her head. “Nay, my dear, nowt o’ the sort. I just have quick ears and many friends who confide in me.”

  “Friends?”

  “Aye, sure, this household abounds with maidservants, outdoor gillies, stable lads, gardeners, men-at-arms, and so forth. I grew up in such a household, sithee, albeit not a royal one. But I soon learned that it behooves one to make friends with one’s people if one does not want gossip spread about. Surely, you have noted how most folks ignore their servants, treat them like fence posts or other necessities, and say whatever they like in front of them. Moreover, even when one’s people are not right there in the room, they listen.”

  “They do?” Amalie could not imagine servants listening at Elishaw’s doors. Her mother would never allow it. Remembering her own behavior at Abbots’ House, she knew she was blushing and, lest Sibylla read her mind, said hastily, “I am sure my lady mother would never keep a snooping servant.”

  Sibylla laughed again. “They don’t have to snoop, my dear. Nor do I. We have only to keep our ears aprick. So I heard exactly how your marriage occurred. Oh, but do not fret that I shall prattle of it to anyone else, for I won’t.”

  “I would never think such a thing,” Amalie said.

  “Well, I would not blame you if you did. But there is something else I learned that you should know and perhaps share with Sir Garth—mayhap with your lady mother, as well, if she can still exert influence over Simon.”

  “Mercy, what did you hear?”

  “That villain Fife,” Sibylla muttered, lowering her voice—although, unlike most people, without looking about to see if anyone might hear her. “Evidently, he told Simon that if that so-delightful henchman of his cannot have you, he is to have the lady Rosalie. I should not interfere, I warrant, but I think her too young for such a creature. Moreover, I doubt the news pleases you or will please your mother.”

  “Sakes,” Amalie exclaimed, “ ’tis Simon it will displease! He would never agree to such a union. He could not! She is only in her thirteenth year.”

  “Apparently, Fife declared her to be of legal age for marrying, and indeed, she is, you know. Moreover, Fife declares himself the law of Scotland. So even if she were not old enough, recall that only a few months ago, when his brother David of Strathearn died, Fife arranged for David’s little heiress to marry one of Fife’s own vassals. And she is younger than Rosalie.”

  Several thoughts struck Amalie at once—so fast that she could barely take them in—but one stood above all the others.

  “Faith, Sibylla, Fife means to have Elishaw!”

  “To be sure, he does,” Sibylla agreed. “It is a border fortress that has stayed neutral in nearly every conflict. ’Tis only logical that Fife would want to force it to support Scotland. But he controls it now, does he not? Simon is Fife’s man.”

  Amalie stared at her and felt an almost physical shift in her mind as pieces rapidly fell into place. “I . . . I must go,” she said, turning blindly away.

  “Where?” Sibylla demanded.

  “I must think and . . . and tidy Isabel’s bedchamber,” Amalie said. “Forgive me, and pray tell Isabel I will explain my absence later, but I must do this, Sibylla.”

  Realizing how odd that must sound, and knowing that the midday meal must be nearly ready to serve, she repeated hastily, “I simply must think.”

  Sibylla did not utter a word of protest as Amalie hurried away and up the stairs, first to Isabel’s bedchamber to be sure all was tidy there. Then, seeing that Bess had put everything to rights, she hurried to her own chamber and found it reassuringly empty.

  She did not send for Bess but quickly changed to her riding dress.

  Then, containing her soul in patience until she heard the bell that summoned the princess’s attendants to the great hall and sent men-at-arms and outdoor servants to the dormer dining hall, she picked up her whip and went down the front stairs slowly and warily, praying she would not meet anyone.

  Slipping out through the front door, she took the outer track past the garden hedge to avoid passing before the hall windows, and went on to the stable.

  Addressing the only lad she saw, she ordered him to bring out her favorite mount. When he said he would also let her two grooms know she was riding out, she did not object. They would not hinder her, and in truth, she did not want to ride all the way to Elishaw alone. Moreover, if she did object, she had a feeling she would discover that Garth or one of the other knights, perhaps even Sir Harald, had given strict orders that none of the ladies was to ride out alone.

  Waiting for her horse, she paced impatiently and stared at the ground, letting her thoughts flow as they would. When she turned to find a shadow right in front of her, she looked up, startled, to see Sibylla with her eyebrows raised and a knowing smile on her face.

  “Where are we going?” she asked mildly.

  Chapter 19

  As Sibylla raised a hand to hurry the two grooms, just then emerging from the dormer, Amalie said fiercely, “You cannot go with me!”

  “Certainly, I can,” Sibylla replied. “I suppose I could keep you from going, for that matter. I need only tell Isabel what you are about. But in troth, I am curious to discover how you mean to—”

  She broke off as the first groom reached them, to say with a smile, “Fetch my horse as well as the lady Amalie’s and, pray, make haste. You will both ride with us, of course.” When they had hurried off, she said, “How do you think you can stop the all-powerful Fife, my dear?”

  “I don’t know, but I must do this,” Amalie said. “He will kill Simon.”

  “How dreadful! But I thought you did not like Simon.”

  “I don’t! But he is my brother, Sibylla. And Elishaw is his, not Fife’s.”

  “But he is Fife’s own man,” Sibylla protested. “Why should Fife kill him?”

  “I can’t explain it exactly,” Amalie admitted. “Oh, I do know you cannot possibly understand, but—”

  “Faith, Amalie, who would understand if I do not? Have you decided how you mean to explain this start of yours to Sir Garth?”

  “He will know that I—” In the face of Sibylla’s wry disbelief, she broke off with a sigh. She knew as well as Sibylla evidently did that Garth would not only not understand but would vehemently oppose what she was about to do. Moreover, he had warned her not to defy his wishes, and she knew from experience that even when he issued such warnings lightly, it was wiser to heed them.

  “Oh, very well,” she admitted. “He will not like it, but I must go anyway. As it is, Simon is as good as alone with those two, and I don’t trust either one of them.”

  The grooms came quickly with their horses, and the two women had to delay their conversation until they had all mounted and ridden out of the yard.

  Amalie was silent, knowing she could not keep her stubborn, self-appointed companion from accompanying her without incurring Isabel’s censure and a likely command to stay put. She also doubted that she could persuade Isabel or anyone other than Sibylla of the still-nebulous danger she believed threatened Simon.

  Signing to the two grooms to fall behind, Sibylla said, “I know of no one who trusts Fife, except perhaps your brother Simon and a few others in Fife’s retinue. But do not forget, my dear, Fife is now as powerful as he has always sought to be. One challenges him only at great risk to oneself.”

  “I do know that,” Amalie said. “ ’Tis one reason I fear for Simon.”

  Sibylla nodded. “I agree that they may soon find themselves at odds over young Rosalie. And mayhap our presence at Elishaw will stay Fife’s hand if he does contemplate mischief. I own, in fact, that I do not fully understand why he is making this
so-called progress of his.”

  “He wants to flaunt his power,” Amalie said.

  “Aye, sure, but his doing so may just annoy folks,” Sibylla said. “Borderers have been loyal to the Douglases for nearly a hundred years, since they allied with the Bruces of Annandale to free Scotland from the English oppressors. Fife is unlikely to shift that loyalty to himself, nor is the Douglas likely to allow it.”

  Amalie nearly said that Garth had sent for Archie, but she decided she should not discuss his business, or Archie’s, with anyone else. Sibylla knew that Garth had gone somewhere. But the likelihood was that, despite her odd powers—whatever they were—she did not know where he had gone, or why, unless Isabel had told her.

  They discussed Fife’s ambitions and general behavior for some time instead and found themselves in cordial agreement as to his villainy.

  Then Sibylla said casually, “What will you tell Sir Garth when he learns what you . . . what we are doing?”

  Realizing only then that Garth might have unpleasant things to say to Sibylla as well as to herself, Amalie said, “I think he’ll be too angry with me to blame you.”

  “You don’t seem too concerned about that,” Sibylla said with a twinkle.

  A shudder rippled through Amalie. As much as she might tell herself it did not matter what Garth did or said to her, it did.

  Remembering that he had once complained that family members were just ties that kept a man from enjoying his freedom, she doubted he would even understand why she cared about Simon. But she cared about her family, even those who had betrayed her or refused to listen to her.

  She was her mother’s daughter, and her father’s. Her parents had both done all they could to protect their family, people, and property without regard for the needs of other Borderers. Some had called them selfish and self-serving.

  If caring for one’s own folk above all others was selfish, then so be it.

  To Sibylla, she said quietly, “I don’t know what Garth will say or do. He can make me feel awful just by looking at me a certain way, and he does not hesitate to say what he thinks or to act on his thoughts. But he can also make me angry.”