Tamed by a Laird

by Amanda Scott

  Hugh nodded. “Then it must be as you will, my lord.”

  “Aye, sure, but take that dour look off your face. Doubtless, you’re thinking of your crops. But your people have managed without you before, and they will now.”

  “They will, indeed, sir,” Hugh said, standing.

  Archie shook hands with him again. “ ’Tis good to have you here, Hugh, and I felicitate you on your choice of a lady. You’ve done well, lad. We’ll not wait for the boats in the morning but will ride out after we break our fast.”

  “Aye, sir, thank you.”

  Archie grinned at Jenny. “If you need a champion later, my lady, you may call on me. I warrant I can still show even our Hugh here a trick or two.”

  “You are kind, my lord,” Jenny said. “But I fight my own battles.”

  “Come along then,” Hugh said, grasping her arm. “We’ll see how you do.”

  The last thing Jenny saw as Hugh whisked her out the door was Archie’s grin.

  Hugh said not a word until they reached their bedchamber. But then, finding Lucas putting out their night things, he ordered the man out without explanation and barely waited for the door to shut behind him before he said, “We have to get some things straight between us, madam wife.”

  “Aye, sir, I think we do,” she said, stepping a little away from him.

  “First of all, when I said I would be your husband in every way, I was including the part of the wedding service that binds you to obey me.”

  “I know.”

  “Well, you have a mighty poor way of showing that you know it. It would serve you right if I ordered you to stay here whilst I go on to Threave with Archie.”

  “Aye, doubtless it would.”

  “If you think to get round me by agreeing with everything I say, you will miss your mark,” he said curtly.

  “At least Archie Douglas knew to call me Lady Easdale.”

  “Because Tam Inglis, his captain of the guard, made sure you wouldn’t be correcting Archie,” he said savagely. “Look here, lass. Although you equal me in rank, if you try to tell me your father would have expected you to behave as if your husband does not exist, whoever he might have been, I say you are—”

  “He would not expect that,” Jenny interjected.

  “Don’t interrupt!” Hugh snapped. “Our duties as husband and wife demand that I protect you and you obey me. You will remain Easdale of Easdale, but you are nonetheless my wife, and I will expect you to behave like it, not like some contrary vixen who takes her own road regardless of what I say. Even where Easdale is concerned, your father would expect your husband—especially one with my experience—to advise and guide you. In some instances, you may even have to accept the fact that I can legally enforce your obedience to my will.”

  “Aye, sir,” she said meekly.

  Catching her by the shoulders, he gave her a shake. “Do not think to cozen me with this show of submissiveness, Jenny, for I don’t believe a word of it. How you dared to twist that dream of yours into such a tale for him about sneaking spies into Threave and paying well for what was wanted—”

  “The words just came out like that, but those things were in my dream, sir.”

  “You are willful and stubborn, and you think you can look after yourself, but you can’t! And if anything should happen to you—” He stopped, realizing he was losing control of himself, albeit not necessarily of his temper.

  She put a gentle hand on his cheek. “Take me to bed, Hugo. I know you worry, and I know why you do. But nothing bad will happen to me whilst I’m here with you tonight, and I promise, I’ll be as obedient as you please.”

  “Ah, Jenny, ’tis an irresistible offer, but we will renew this discussion later. Don’t think we will not.”

  She smiled, and he shook his head at her, but he took her to bed and held her to her promise. However, when she slept, he remained wakeful, thinking of how he felt about her and wondering what he would do if he lost her, as he had lost Ella.

  No matter what else he tried to think about then, his thoughts kept flying back to the horrible image of riding home to learn that Ella was dead. At last, he got up and put on breeks, shirt, jack, and boots to walk about and refresh his knowledge of Castle Mains, hoping its memories would banish the one that haunted him.

  In the hall, some of the male guests still remained, dicing or playing other games. Not in the mood for camaraderie or to talk with Reid, who was one of them, he continued through the hall as if he had a goal in mind, and out into the courtyard.

  It was cold there under a clear sky and a high, brilliant, still nearly full moon. But the chill was more than his jack alone could offset, so he took himself back inside and began to climb the stairway to his chambers.

  He reached the landing, then knew no more until he wakened, crumpled on the hard stone steps with an aching head and Lucas bending over him, speaking his name in urgent tones.

  “Thank t’ Fates, ye’re no dead yet,” the man said as Hugh opened his eyes. “I thought this time ye’d done it. What did she clout ye with, any road?”

  “She! You’re as daft as Tam Inglis says you are if you think—”

  “Och, I didna think nowt of the sort,” Lucas said, stepping adroitly out of reach. “I just wanted to see did ye keep all your senses, laird. Your sweet wee lady couldna reach high enough to fetch ye such a clout.”

  “Could she not? I am sure you wrong her,” Hugh said. “But she would not, nor had she reason.”

  “Then she didna lock ye out, either?”

  “Nay, she did not. She was sleeping soundly when I left, but I could not get to sleep. I kept thinking about… about things I should no longer think about.”

  “Aye, sure,” Lucas said wisely. “We’ll just be gettin’ ye to bed then. I did fear ye’d slozzled a mite over t’ limit, ye ken, but I couldna smell whisky nor wine on your breath. Then I felt yon great lump on your head, so—”

  “Lucas, stow your gab,” Hugh said. “Help me to my feet.”

  “Aye, sir, and then I’ll help ye to your bed.”

  “Nay, you will not.”

  “Hush now, ye’ll wake your lady.”

  Hugh gave up and let Lucas have his way.

  Jenny heard them shuffle into the room but, hearing no voices, felt quickly for Hugh in the bed. Just as she realized he was not there, she heard Lucas mutter, “Dinna try to ’elp yourself, laird. I’ll get them clothes off ye and fetch ye a cold cloth for that lump on your head.”

  “Lump!” She sat up, clutching covers to her breast. “Light a candle, Lucas. I’m awake. What happened?”

  “Nowt,” Hugh said. “Go back to sleep, lass.”

  “Don’t be daft,” she snapped. “There are still embers on the hearth, Lucas. Light something. I want to see him.”

  “Unless you have more clothes on than you had when I left, you’d best be covered to the neck, lady wife,” Hugh said. “We still have things to settle between us, so now is not the time to vex me further.”

  “Aye, sir, I’m covered. What happened? And don’t say ‘nowt’ again unless you want to find out how much temper your lady wife has. If you’ve a lump on your head, ‘nowt’ was clearly a lie, so don’t make me get up to shake the truth out of you.”

  Lucas had moved from Hugh to kneel by the hearth, and he stood with a lighted candle in time for Jenny to see Hugh’s quick grin turn to a wince.

  “Good sakes, the pair of you ought to be flayed,” she said, starting to put a leg out when she saw that Lucas was also smiling.

  “Nay,” Hugh snapped. “We’ll tell you what happened, but stay where you are. I’ll be with you in a trice if Lucas can find a dish to set that damned candle in.”

  “Aye, sure, blame me,” Lucas said. “Behear the man! Nae doots, I saved ’is life, but t’ fact that he ’as displeased your ladyship be on my head.”

  “Saved his life!”

  “Lucas, if you don’t want to feel my fist on your jaw, you’ll cease your gabbing,” Hugh said. “You
’re giving me a headache.”

  “ ’Tis me that’s givin’ ’im an ’eadache, aye, as if nae one clouted ’im.”

  “Someone struck you?”

  “Aye, but that’s all,” Hugh said. “I’m not dead, so hush, the pair of you.”

  “Happen, savin’ ’is life again puts us even, but I’ve lost count,” Lucas said thoughtfully. “Some devil’s limb clouted ’im, but I’d seen t’ laird a-strollin’ through t’ hall and up t’ stairs. Thinkin’ he’d ’ad more than he ought to drink and might need ’elp with his disrobin’, I followed ’im. By, when I heard ’im fall—”

  “We don’t need to hear what you thought then,” Hugh interjected. “Cease your gab now, and get these clothes off me. Then you may take yourself to bed.”

  “Nah then, I’m a-doin’ it,” Lucas said, hastening to help Hugh undress.

  As he was leaving, Hugh said quietly. “I do thank you, Lucas.”

  “ ’Tis nae more than ye’d do for me, laird, and have done, as ye might say. Dinna let him take that cold cloth off his head till the ache eases, me lady.”

  “Good night, Lucas,” Hugh said firmly.

  The door shut, and Jenny smiled. “He loves you, you know. Who do you think hit you?”

  “That loving scoundrel who just left suggested it might have been you.”

  She laughed then. “Earlier, perhaps, but not after… Why did you leave?”

  “I couldn’t sleep, and I was afraid I’d wake you.”

  “I think you’re not telling me the whole truth,” she said.

  “Nay, but I’m not lying, so don’t smack me. I can’t take another hit tonight.”

  “Too many tormenting thoughts?”

  “Aye, a few.”

  “I know how they go,” she said. “Most begin with ‘what if?’ or ‘if only.’ ”

  “Aye.” He reached for her and drew her close. “Sleep, lassie. Tomorrow will be a long day.”

  “How does your head feel now?”

  “Don’t ask.”

  She did not ask again, but she could not help wondering who had anything to gain by attacking Hugh. The only person she could imagine who might think he had was Reid, and she doubted that Reid had the courage to act on the thought.

  That left a castle full of mostly unknown persons with, as far as she knew, not one member of the minstrel company among them.

  Hugh woke to gray light through the tall, narrow window. As it faced west, he could not tell if the grayness was dawn twilight or sunlight obscured by clouds.

  His head ached, but the ache was dull. Lucas had assured him the night before that his assailant had not broken it, and the dullness of the pain reinforced that fact. But it was going to be a long day.

  Jenny slept soundly beside him on her stomach as she had the past three mornings. At least, this bed was large enough, so she had not kicked or kneed him.

  Waking her at last but with the same difficulty he had had every morning, he recalled how quickly she had wakened the night before and wondered if she had had some sixth sense that there was trouble. If that were the case, perhaps the reason she slept so soundly otherwise was that he was with her. The thought was a comfortable one for him, but he smiled as he imagined what she would think about it.

  Despite his headache, he’d have welcomed a brief interlude with her. But since Archie wanted to be away early, he did not suggest it. In any event, the long, narrow-eyed look Jenny gave him as she climbed out of bed suggested that she would have been too concerned about his aching head to enjoy it.

  He noted the same appraising look many times during the morning. He saw it as they broke their fast and in the courtyard as they mounted their horses. He saw it so often as they rode alongside the river Dee that when their large party stopped to eat the dinner packed for them at Castle Mains, he took her firmly aside.

  “See here, lass,” he said. “I am not made of glass. My head aches and I’m tired because I did not sleep well. But I won’t fall off my horse or die in the saddle before we reach Threave. My temper is a mite uncertain, though, so let be.”

  “Aye, sure,” she said, dimpling. “I must be acting like a mother cat with one kit, but I did not realize I was vexing you. Sakes, but it would vex me, too!”

  He nodded, satisfied that she would keep her word. It occurred to him then that she often agreed with him. Although he had learned that he could make her angry, she was ever quick to agree with his rebukes. Then experience reminded him that she was nonetheless capable of doing exactly as she pleased afterward.

  Recalling that his sister Phaeline had often accused him of doing the same thing—listening, agreeing, and then doing whatever he had decided to do—he found himself for once agreeing with Phaeline. It was a damned annoying habit!

  As they rode, he watched the other riders, wondering which, if any of them, had struck him. He had no memory of the event other than that he had been walking up the spiral stairway… until Lucas had spoken his name.

  Hugh was no stranger to violence. No knight of the Scottish realm was a stranger to violence, death, or destruction. He had cultivated an inbred sense of self-preservation that had served him well in battle and tournament, and had seen him safely through his extensive travels and a few very dangerous adventures.

  Yet he had sensed no danger beforehand, had heard no sound of warning or marked anyone who seemed to take particular note of his presence. Such details, he decided, strongly indicated someone with experience to match his own.

  That eliminated Reid as a suspect, although Hugh had never seriously considered him. Doubtless, Jenny suspected Reid though, and perhaps Lucas did.

  Reid and Dunwythie had both chosen to ride to Threave, leaving the Dunwythie ladies to travel by boat with Joanna Douglas.

  Noting that Reid seemed friendly with several other men, none of whom Hugh recognized, he was conscious of another stirring of guilt. Since Ella’s death, thanks to his grief or a disinclination to associate closely with the rest of his family, he had ignored his duty to the lad. To be sure, he had also been busy with Thornhill and lingering obligations to Archie. But those were just excuses.

  He was still considering the wide demands of duty when they topped a rise and the massive, square, battlemented splendor of Threave loomed into view.

  Inside a high, nearly finished curtain wall with watch-towers at all four angles, and rising magnificently above a surrounding flat, watery landscape, the immense symbol of Douglas power dominated an islet formed and protected by the river. All around it, colorful pavilions and tents of visitors decorated the driest patches of ground much as wildflowers might adorn other fields.

  Threave’s forbidding majesty silenced the party as its members drew rein.

  If Archie intended to awe the residents of Galloway and all forthcoming visitors, Hugh thought he would succeed beyond his dreams.

  Chapter 18

  Jenny saw the man as they were fording the river Dee— alongside an observably temporary, narrow timber footbridge—to Threave’s islet.

  At first, she thought only that the man looked vaguely familiar and wondered if he might be someone she had met at Easdale before her father died.

  She and Hugh were entering the ford as the group she had noticed emerged onto the islet, so the man who had drawn her attention provided only his profile.

  He looked every inch a nobleman, elegant of garb and arrogant of demeanor. He had one of those faces that look much the same from middle age to later years, but she judged him to be some years older than Hugh, yet younger than Dunwythie.

  Reid rode behind the man but urged his mount up alongside the other’s as their horses stepped onto the islet. Jenny realized then that she had seen the nobleman with Reid earlier, in the hall at Castle Mains.

  She glanced at Hugh. If Reid knew the man, perhaps he did as well.

  Hugh was looking straight ahead, minding his horse, a nervous animal that, even after a tediously slow eight-mile ride, still tended to start or rear at perceived obsta
cles or enemies. Hugh managed him deftly enough but without his usual look of being at one with the animal. She knew he was tired, but after his earlier rebuke, she would not ask him if his head still ached. However…

  “Sir, do you know that man with whom your brother is riding?”

  He began to shake his head but visibly thought better of it. “Nay, lass,” he said then. “Why do you ask?”

  “I feel as if I should know him, but I cannot place him.”

  “Aye, well, doubtless you saw him at Castle Mains. Or do you imagine he may be one of the villains we seek?”

  “I don’t know who he may be,” she said. “I did see him with Reid at Castle Mains, but something else about him is tugging at my memory. I warrant it will come to me later.”

  “Well, do not waken me with it in the middle of the night,” he said with a slight smile. “Archie still seems to think I’m going to enter the tourney.”

  “You cannot mean to joust!”

  “Nay, not to joust, Jenny. One pays a fee to enter a tournament and may joust if challenged. But few enter merely to joust one against another. There will be large parties of men competing, party against party. Whether I participate is something I must decide before this evening. But I am not daft, lass, nor am I in practice for tilting or running at a quintain.”

  “I do not know precisely what those things mean,” she admitted. “I have never watched a tournament.”

  “Tilting is riding a horse full speed down a course, holding a lance that one is to put through a small ring dangling from a spring at about the level of the rider’s eyebrows. Jousting is horseman against horseman with lances, spears, or swords, and a quintain is a man-shaped target that one hits horsed or afoot and which can hit back. But you will see it all, and I’ll explain anything you do not understand.”

  With that, she had to be content. She hoped, though, that enough men would take part in the events to make it unnecessary for Hugh to do so.

  They dismounted in the bailey and followed Archie up a steep timber stairway to the entry of the huge keep and, from there, into its great hall.