by Starla Kaye
He flexed his spanking hand. It was still a bit sore this morn. Although he imagined Maggie’s bottom was tender as well and she’d probably been shifting about in discomfort on her saddle every now and again. They were off to a rocky start with him having thrashed her just before they left her home and now with this spanking. Not that he regretted either one. The Scottish lass was a trial. She was going to try the patience of whatever poor man took her for wife. He thanked the Good Lord every day that he would be handing her off before too long.
Gerald rode up next to him as he led the group. “Mayhap we should stop for a few moments. The ladies need…” He looked uncomfortable. “They need to walk about a bit. I also suspect the men could use some time for personal matters.”
The sprawling grey-stoned curtain walls of Middleham were faintly within sight now. Nicholas was anxious to get there. He slowed his horse to glance back and saw the way both young women rode with pinched expressions. He hadn’t noticed Fia’s expression until just now. Maggie’s had been both pinched and annoyed every time he’d looked in her direction. She hadn’t appreciated getting spanked and then spending hours in the saddle.
He studied his friend. “Did you….”
Gerald blew out a put-upon breath. “I put my hand to Fia’s bottom, yes. She got all sassy and upset when you took Lady Urquhart off to deal with her sour attitude. I tired of Fia’s attitude as well.”
Nicholas actually smiled at that. “This pair of Scottish women is proving to be much trouble.”
He reined his horse around and motioned for everyone to stop. “We’ll rest a few minutes here. Do whatever you find necessary.”
His men quickly dismounted and looked pleased for the break. He’d been driving them all hard these two weeks. The borderlands were not a safe place to dally, especially with women traveling with them. No one had complained, though. Except for Maggie. She still bemoaned the change to her life, still talked about returning to Urquhart.
He rode next to the women. “Do you require help in dismounting, ladies?”
Fia shook her head and slid to the ground, grimacing, and then sighing in relief. She looked back at Maggie and hurried off to find her spot of privacy.
“I dunna need private time.” Maggie met his gaze, tipping up her chin in defiance as was her habit.
Nicholas couldn’t say why he had begun finding amusement in toying with her, but he had. He gave her a patronizing smile. “No need to stretch your legs? Ease your tender bottom?”
Pink tinged her creamy cheeks and her eyes narrowed. “I’ve seen you flexing yer fingers. Yer hand is tender this morn, too. ‘Tis only justice.”
He actually laughed and he couldn’t remember how long it had been since he’d done that. Certainly since before the long year of fighting in the Crusade. “As your countrymen say, you’re a bonny one, Maggie Durward.”
She blinked with surprise, probably both at his moment of teasing and at hearing him laugh. And then she gave him smile, one that tipped up the corners of the rosebud mouth he’d spent too much time noticing. A smile that reached eyes as blue-green as the loch near her home. Something strange fluttered in his chest, something he didn’t want to think about.
Then she nodded toward the distance. “Is that yer home? Middleham Castle? ‘Tis a fair sight to behold even from here.”
He followed her gaze, feeling pride swell within him. He’d visited Middleham once before and had admired it greatly. Now the castle and the surrounding lands belonged to him. “My new home, yes. King Edward granted me the barony of Middleham for loyalty to him. I’m anxious to get there, to settle in and see to what needs to be done.”
“Ye’ll have nay trouble there, I’m thinking. Ye’re a strong leader. Yer men follow ye with pride and it shouldna take long fer the people of Middleham to do so as well.” She spoke quietly and with confidence.
Her praise caught him off guard. They’d been butting heads since the moment they’d met. “I hope you’re right, My Lady.” His own confidence swelled. “Whatever it takes, I will take the place as their new lord. And they will respect me as such.”
Fia returned and mounted, as did the men behind them. But before he turned away once more, Maggie added, “Respect is best earned, Lord Middleham. Not demanded.”
As he took the lead again, he wondered if she was only talking about his taking over Middleham. Or if she was referring to his having basically demanded her obedience and respect, too. Then he put thoughts of Maggie and the way she sometimes confused him, sometimes distracted him with a steadily growing attraction for her petite beauty aside. There were far more important matters ahead now. He didn’t know what kind of greeting he and his men would receive and he worried about it. And once settled in, he would need to send for Lady Elizabeth Stanhope. He wanted the wedding behind him so he could focus on his duties. Yet he also dreaded the marriage. Because of Maggie? God’s teeth, no!
* * *
Maggie worriedly noticed the guards that lined the battlements and watched cautiously as they rode closer. Gerald had just returned from having ridden ahead to announce that the castle’s new lord was about to arrive. He looked relieved, as if he, too, had been worrying about their reception. No matter how confident Nicholas had sounded, Maggie had been concerned. Still was. Odd, but she wanted these people to accept him. She might have her differences with him, but she’d grown to admire his way with his men. And he’d treated Urquhart’s people well, too. She couldn’t help but respect him.
He straightened in the saddle, his head held high with dignity, as he led the group forward toward the east gate. Maggie rode behind him, Fia next to her. The two dozen knights behind them had donned their chainmail this morn except for helmets. Nicholas, too, had dressed completely in chainmail this time. They jangled with each bounce in their saddles. Still, their noise didn’t cover up the heavy pounding of her heart. She fretted about this next big change in her life. She didn’t know what to expect of these English strangers, how they would respond to two Scottish women brought into their midst. Not that either she or Fia would have any rights or control over any of them. They were but temporary visitors. They would only be here until Nicholas could find her another betrothed. An English betrothed. Oh, how she dreaded and feared that.
She looked at Nicholas’ wide back and wanted to hate him for disrupting her life at Urquhart, for dragging her all the way to England. Yet she could not hate him. Strange, that. He’d insisted upon taking her from everything she knew and loved. He’d even thrashed her, although she had deserved it and had forgiven him for doing so. And he’d spanked her only last night for speaking against the English so brazenly. She didn’t truly dislike either he or his men, and they were English. She was only distraught about the situation forced upon her and the attack on her home. Even with all that, though, she could not find it in her to hate the proud, arrogant, far-too-handsome man.
The breeze caught his shoulder-length black hair, which he’d not tied back today, and fluttered it about. Again she longed to touch it, to run her fingers through it. She wanted that almost as much as she desired to feel the touch of his sensual lips against hers. She had been kissed in a few stolen moments before, by curious youths not much older than she’d been. She’d never found the experiences memorable. Couldn’t even understand about which the castle’s maids had often twittered in excitement. But she suspected that a kiss from Nicholas would be entirely different. He was a man of much experience and she did not doubt that he’d bedded many a woman over his years.
She shifted in the saddle at the thought of kisses and of bedding. A warmth she’d never felt before pooled low in her body. Her stomach quivered with urges she didn’t understand. Those feelings intensified when she looked at Nicholas once more. She frowned, determined to shake free of such nonsense. She was destined to marry another. Nicholas saw her only as a burden he wanted to soon rid himself of.
Gerald fell back from riding alongside Nicholas to ride beside her and Fia. He caught her shif
ting again in the saddle and looked almost as uncomfortable as she felt. He glanced at her and then quickly away. “We’ll soon be there, Lady Urquhart.” He glanced past her to Fia, then away again. “You’ll be able to stretch your legs and… get some relief then.”
From the side of her eye, Maggie caught Fia’s blush, saw how she concentrated on looking straight ahead. Maggie knew her friend had developed a fondness for the normally grim-faced knight. She also knew that he’d spanked Fia last night. Poor Fia was embarrassed by the awkward reference to their discomfort and the reason behind it. She, too, was a bit embarrassed, but she’d weathered such embarrassments before. All of the men knew she and Fia had both been taken in hand, though no one had actually spoken of it. But she disliked having her friend embarrassed now and wanted to put him in his place or at least make him as discomfited as Fia.
Maggie straightened her legs in the stirrups and rose up off the saddle and gave an over-dramatic sigh of relief. In truth, the pressure off her tender bottom did feel good. “Aye, ‘twill be good to no’ be sitting much longer. ‘Tis been a difficult ride this day, if ye ken my meaning.”
To her pleasure, the rugged face of the large man turned red. “I ken. I mean, I know.” He gave a curt nod and decided to catch up with Nicholas.
Although she didn’t want to, Maggie resumed her seat on the saddle, wincing. Nicholas Neville gave a hard spanking. She’d do her best to avoid being disciplined by him again anytime soon. Turning her thoughts from her suffering bottom, she focused on the massive stronghold. Once more her heart thudded with anticipation. With dread? Perhaps. Her future was very uncertain at the moment.
Tension had Nicholas gripping the reins of his horse tighter. He’d been in many difficult situations in the past, but preparing to face Middleham’s soldiers, the keep’s staff, and the villagers who lived within the castle’s walls was far easier said than done. All would be aware by now that their king had given him control of the castle and its surrounding lands. They would have to accept him, but that didn’t mean they would have to like doing so. But they would accept him. He would tolerate no less and, hopefully, before long he would have their respect.
Maggie’s words came back to him: “Respect is best earned, not demanded.” She was right, of course. He planned to earn their respect because he was not a stupid man.
For just a second, he thought about Maggie. They weren’t on the best of terms this day. He didn’t regret what he’d done, but he didn’t want her riding into Middleham looking cowed in any manner. The last time he’d looked at Fia, she’d had the expression of a woman brought well under control, timid and subservient. She was Maggie’s friend, yes, but she was also her maid. He believed as such she should show a certain amount of submissive behavior. But Maggie Durward, Lady of Urquhart should not.
He glanced back, saw Maggie squirming slightly on her saddle, and felt a twinge of guilt. Only a twinge, though. He’d take her over his knee without hesitation should she behave so poorly again.
She caught his eye and straightened, thrust out her stubborn chin. That pleased him.
“You will show these people the proud Scottish woman you are, Lady Urquhart. I expect no less.”
Those green eyes narrowed in irritation. “Ye will show them the strong leader ye are, Lord Middleham. I expect no less as well.”
Beside him, Gerald chuckled. “The lass holds her own. I admire that in her.”
Nicholas studied her confident demeanor a second longer before facing forward once more. “I find I do, too.” She would make a good wife to whoever he finally chose to take her hand in marriage. It surprised him that the thought of her marrying someone else pained him a bit. He would take great care in choosing the right man.
The thoughts flew away as they rode through the east gate. The bailey was filled with people, from the castle’s guardsmen to merchants to villagers and to children. All watched their arrival in near silence. Tension sparked in the air, a strained nervousness.
Before he could address them, a little girl looking five or six—he was a poor judge of children’s ages—danced up and down in excitement next to her clearly worried mother. She beamed a winning smile and pointed behind Nicholas. “Mama! Oh, Mama, look! It’s a fairy princess. Look at her long golden hair. Like in the stories you tell me.”
He didn’t know what to do now, how to respond, even if he should. But he knew the child spoke of Maggie. She’d worn her hair down today and it fell in a curtain of silky blonde hair to her waist. Now that he thought about it, she did indeed look like a fairy princess. A beautiful one.
Maggie rode up next to him and started to slide from her saddle, but one of the castle’s guards rushed to help her dismount. Nicholas fought off the need to shove the man away. He didn’t like anyone touching her, and that realization annoyed him. So instead he held his tongue and watched curiously along with everyone else for whatever she intended to do. He worried a bit as well. She could be unpredictable.
She graciously thanked the man, who reddened from the attention of such a stunning young woman, and he quickly moved back to join the line of soldiers. Then she smiled and the warmth of it could be felt by all nearby. An instant later she went to the child and knelt down in front of her.
“I’m no’ a princess, luv. I’m Maggie Durward, Lady of Urquhart.” She stroked the girl’s somewhat wild black hair and added with a sense of sadness. “My da and brothers had lovely black hair such as yers.”
“You are sad, My Lady,” the child stated. “Your eyes, they’re filled with tears.” Suddenly her small face wrinkled in a fierce scowl. She focused on Nicholas with her hands planted on her thin hips. “Was he mean to you? I will kick him in his shins for you. My brother says I kick very hard.”
Everyone around him, including his men and Gerald tensed. Nicholas was half amused, half stunned and he, too, waited for Maggie’s response. Although he did try to give the child a reassuring look.
Maggie merely laughed, a soft, warm and calming laugh. “Nay, lass. Lord Middleham is a fine mon. A bit gruff appearing on the outside at times and a bit bold as well.” She glanced at him, still smiling, winking. “But ‘tis a good mon, yer new lord.”
Relief seemed to swell free throughout the bailey.
A sturdy-looking man with short brown hair and an air of authority stepped forward from the group of Middleham soldiers. He met Nicholas’ gaze and nodded toward the embarrassed-looking young mother and the bold child. “Annie is my daughter, My Lord. I apologize for her improper behavior.” He drew in a breath. “I’m Sir Richard Thornley, the stand-in bailiff here.”
Nicholas caught Maggie’s warning look, as if he would be angry with the daring little girl. He sent her a sharp returning look telling her that he would handle the matter. He dismounted and went to stand in front of the anxious man. “There is nothing to apologize for. In fact, I admire your daughter’s quick defense of someone she has only met. She will do you proud as a daughter.”
Again, relief flowed around him. He nodded toward his soldiers. “If you would help these men settle in and find places for them to stay, I would appreciate it. After I get Lady Urquhart and Fia settled into their chambers, I would like to meet with you. Have my first, Sir Gerald, join us as well.”
“Of course, My Lord.” Richard motioned a tall and somewhat lean man over. “Take these men to the stable and help see to their horses. I shall be along directly.”
He turned back to Nicholas, looking uncomfortable. “Your betrothed arrived just a couple of days ago. I’m actually surprised Lady Stanhope isn’t here to greet you as well.”
Nicholas felt his stomach contract into a tight ball. He supposed he should have expected word of his new lordship at Middleham would reach his holding at Spennithorne. Yet he had hoped to have longer before he went to fetch his betrothed here. In looking around at the gathering of people, he was curious at the determined blank faces he saw now, as if they were keeping their opinions of Lady Stanhope to themselves. That worried hi
m.
A glance toward Maggie found her watching him with something of a lost expression. There was nothing between them, and yet….
“Let me through,” a woman said briskly, trying to make her way past the group standing in front of the keep. “I need to greet, Lord Middleham. Move.”
He braced for the arrival of his betrothed, trying to recall her from the one time they’d met at court. She’d been a curvaceous woman with deep mahogany hair. Brown eyes, if he remembered right.
And then a fairly tall and slender brunette wove her way closer. Hazy blue eyes met his puzzled gaze. “You’re not Elizabeth,” he said in confusion.
A thin smile appeared and she shook her head. “I regret to tell you that my poor sister died only a month ago of a fever.”
For a second he didn’t know what to say. Then he said with sincerity, “I am sorry for your loss.” Odd, he felt no real disappointment. Sadness on her behalf, but more a sense of being saved from a duty he hadn’t wanted on his side. “Thank you for delivering the message. I shall have some of my men take you back—”
“I have nowhere else to go, My Lord.” Her smile turned coquettish, although it did nothing for him. “I’ve sent word to King Edward and have offered to step in for my sister as your betrothed. I’m sure he will have no objection.”
Chapter Three
Nicholas was too stunned to speak at first. King Edward would not agree to or force this marriage. He’d even told him during a lull in the battles he wished Nicholas were free to marry someone who would make both him and England a better match. The second sister, the second daughter, of a lowly baron without any real land of value to the crown would not be a consideration for their king. Certainly not for him, either. Yet he did not want to go into the matter out here in front of everyone.