Maggie Mine

by Starla Kaye

  He walked into the warm day, breathed in the fresh morning air, and felt somewhat better. But he was hungry. He’d have to get one of the squires to fetch him some mead and a bit of bread and cheese. Looking across the bailey to where some of his men were already preparing for another day of training, he felt the stirrings of loneliness. With well over a hundred people living within the castle’s walls, it seemed odd to feel lonely. In truth, it wasn’t so much loneliness but more of a desire for a woman to share his bed, to share his life. After so many years of not being ready to settle down, this was a new feeling for him.

  Immediately his thoughts turned, as always, to Maggie. Maggie, with her long, flaxen blonde hair worn free and flowing rather than wound up into a cap of braids like Mary’s hair. Maggie, with her sea green eyes that danced with spirit and a sweet face generally split with a smile for someone. Not him. Not anymore. Her smiles disappeared the instant she realized he was anywhere around her. He hated that. There were strong feelings between them, he sensed hers. Both of them were determined to fight those feelings. His duty was to find her a suitable husband approved by Edward. Her duty was to marry the man Edward chose.

  It was time he started searching for his own bride. He’d put off doing so until he had both Maggie and Mary married off and away from Middleham. But Mary’s efforts to make him ask for her hand were becoming hard to deal with. And Maggie’s sad eyes when she looked at him….

  “Riders come, My Lord!” the guard on the parapet near the front gate called down. “They bear King Edward’s colors.”

  Nicholas hurried down the steps, wondered what news Edward had sent by messenger now. His gut tightened. Maggie. It had to do with Maggie, of that he felt certain. Edward had found a husband for her in his impatience with Nicholas’s efforts.

  Chapter Six

  Nicholas waited at the bottom of the keep’s steps as a dozen soldiers rode through the front gate. They bore Edward’s colors and carried his flag. With each pounding hoofbeat across the hard ground, his stomach clenched tighter and tighter with nerves. Everything was about to change. For the better? For the worse? He didn’t know. But he knew that Maggie was the reason they had ridden here. Edward had tired of his inability to find her a suitable husband and he wanted Urquhart under English control. As the only heir left, the stronghold would pass to her English husband’s hands. Unless Brodie did indeed return from the Crusade as Maggie continued to believe he would. The chances of that were slim to none after all this time.

  Pulling him from his thoughts, Gerald and Richard strode down the steps to wait beside him. Tension tightened their expressions. Then, as the group rode directly in front of them, Mary walked out to join him as well. She edged her way between he and Gerald, an air of expectancy wafting from her. He had the uncomfortable feeling she would have slipped her hand through his bent right arm if he’d allowed it. Instead he fisted his hand and edged away a few inches. Even with that hint of rejection, she maintained her smile for the approaching men. It was as if she expected the news to be delivered to give her great joy. But then she was anxious to be rid of Maggie, so she could try to apply her womanly ways to persuade him to marry her. A notion that sent a shudder through him.

  The riders drew closer. He and his two firsts straightened and waited grimly. Then Maggie stepped into the doorway behind him. He didn’t have to look back to see she’d done so, he sensed her presence. He also sensed her uneasiness and her curiosity. She’d been concerned about the next potential husband who would ride in one day. After the Earl of Dunston, he understood her trepidation. He prayed Edward had chosen wisely and with care. She deserved a man who would care for her, appreciate the many facets of her, and yet be strong enough to butt heads with her on occasion and apply a firm hand when necessary. But never in cruelty. After the experience with Dunston, he, too, worried about matching her with a stern husband or a man with depraved tastes.

  “Lord Middleham.” The knight in chain mail and obviously in charge reined up in front of Nicholas.

  “Yes.” Nicholas waited for the verbal news or the parchment to be delivered, but his patience had grown thin. “You have news from King Edward?”

  The man’s glance took in the small gathering on the steps. He barely noted Gerald and Richard as his gaze shifted to the two women. He spared Mary only a bare appraisal before he focused on Maggie. A hint of a smile crept onto his rough face. “I’d heard that the Scottish lass was a beauty. And I was pleased to get the chance to deliver the king’s message, pleased to get a chance to see for myself.”

  Nicholas followed the man’s gaze and ground his teeth at the easy smile that settled over Maggie’s face.

  “I thank ye, sir, for yer compliment. But I’m no’ fairer than many of the women here.” She gave a light laugh. “‘Tis nay doubt rumors ye’ve heard, and rumors tend to get bolder as they spread.”

  “In this case, the rumor proved true.” The knight stared at her in awe, clearly impressed by the beaming smile and the warmness in her demeanor.

  Nicholas glowered at her, but she, of course, ignored him and kept right on smiling.

  “Stop your drooling, man, and deliver your message,” Gerald barked in a rough-edged growl.

  Richard, too, appeared unhappy with the way both the knight and his men ogled Maggie. His stance became even more rigid. He shifted in front of her to cut off their view.

  Beside Nicholas, Mary gave an unladylike snort of disgust.

  Nicholas narrowed his eyes and was about to demand whatever missive Edward had sent and urge the men to leave again. But Maggie intervened.

  She rose up on tiptoes to be seen once more. “Ye and yer men must come inside. Break yer fasts with us.”

  “They need to deliver their message and be on their way,” Nicholas gritted out, even though he knew it would be expected of him to offer such a kindness to the king’s men.

  Her chin thrust up and she looked at the enamored men. “I’m sure they’d appreciate a wee rest before heading out again. Would ye no’?”

  Nicholas knew when he’d lost a skirmish and he’d lost this one. She’d been trained as a hostess and expected to be one now, even if the home didn’t belong to her. He sighed in resignation and said, “Aye, Lady Urquhart is right. You deserve a small rest and most of my men are still breaking their fasts. Join them.”

  He motioned toward a pair of young squires standing nearby, gaping eagerly at the soldiers. “Come see to their horses. Give them water and some grain.”

  As they hurried over, the men began dismounting, and Nicholas focused on the leader. “I would have Edward’s message first, though, before you go inside.”

  “Yes,” Mary said and boldly stepped closer to him. “Deliver your message.”

  With a frown toward Mary, the knight reached into a pouch on the back of his saddle and pulled out a rolled and tied piece of parchment. He handed it to Nicholas but was distracted by Maggie continuing to smile in welcome at the visitors to Middleham.

  To Mary’s displeasure, Nicholas took the missive and carried it with him into the keep. He hesitated in the doorway and called to Gerald. “I would have you come with me to the solar.” Then he looked at Mary. “Help Maggie see to feeding the king’s men.”

  She stiffened in annoyance and appeared ready to protest, or demand he read the message in front of her. But she finally nodded. “As you wish, Lord Middleham.”

  Maggie struggled to keep her smile in place as she saw that the king’s men were all seated and the maids brought them mead, bread and cheese. Her stomach had started fluttering with nerves the second she’d overheard the call announcing riders approaching the castle. She’d hidden in the shadows next to the door while the soldiers rode through the gate. She’d seen the stiffness in Nicholas’s stance. She’d noted the tension in Gerald and Richard as well. She felt certain whatever news the soldiers brought had to do with her. Mayhap Edward had grown weary of Nicholas’s inability to locate a suitable husband for her. Mayhap he’d made a decision
himself and sent word of his choice. She prayed the choice was a far better man than the earl. She still had nightmares about what she’d been made to experience and what she’d overheard.

  Mary flitted by her carrying a jug of mead, all smiles and cheerfulness. It was unnerving and worried Maggie. “What has ye so happy all of a sudden?”

  “The news from King Edward.” She stopped and seemed to puff up with self-importance. “I’m certain he has re-thought my request to become Nicholas’s bride. I sent a long missive to him a couple of weeks back. I explained how everyone here has come to accept me, how I’ve worked hard to become worthy of being Lord Middleham’s wife.”

  “Ye didna lie to the king, did ye?” Maggie couldn’t believe the woman’s daringness. She could only imagine what Nicholas would say when he found out Mary had somehow gone behind his back to have one of his men get word in secret to the king.

  Mary snorted and shoved around her. “You don’t want to get on my bad side any more than you already have.”

  “A threat?”

  “A warning.”

  Before Maggie could say anymore Gerald called loudly from the stairway, “Lady Urquhart, Lord Middleham would have you join him in the solar.”

  “Not I?” Mary questioned in surprise.

  “Nay, his lordship wishes to speak with Lady Urquhart.”

  Maggie felt a wave of hostility flowing toward her. Mary gripped the handle of the jug in her hands so tightly her knuckles had turned white. For a second Maggie wondered how serious that “warming” had been. Then she shoved the thought aside and hurried across the hall. All conversation had temporarily stopped as the king’s men, Nicholas’s men, and the servants watched Maggie head for the stairs. Curious, everyone was curious. None more than she.

  * * *

  Nicholas paced the room, the missive clenched in his hands. To say that he was stunned by the message would be putting it lightly. In the last couple of messages from Edward, he’d been given lists of women his king considered worthy of being his bride. He’d known many of the women, but none had particularly interested him. He’d planned to go over those lists again and begin requesting meetings with a few that might in some small way be acceptable to him. He didn’t want a lady wife who wanted to spend most of her time at Edward’s court partying. For he would not suffer that amount of boredom and so they wouldn’t have a real marriage if they lived separately. Nor did he want a wife who would be too meek and jump at his every demand. He needed a mate made of sterner stuff, intelligent, one who could challenge his mind at times. Like Maggie.

  Maggie. God’s teeth, what was Edward thinking?

  “Ye wished to speak with me,” Maggie interrupted his troubled thoughts and walked into the room.

  Richard gave him a knowing nod and then a kind smile to Maggie before leaving the solar. He pulled the door shut after him.

  Maggie glanced uneasily toward the desk. Only a week ago he’d had her bend over the desk and he’d disciplined her. From the way her hands fisted in the sides of her skirt and the tenseness in her small shoulders, he knew she recalled the time as well. It made her uncomfortable to be here again. But this was the only private place in the whole keep…except for their bedchambers.

  “Edward has made a decision about your husband.” When he’d first read the note, he’d wanted to send a message right back, refusing, insisting Edward find another man. Then he’d felt a sense of rightness, acceptance. But he knew she would take some convincing.

  She worried her lower lip, lips he longed to press his against. “Well, do no’ keep me in suspense. Get the bad news o’er with.”

  He frowned at the mention of “bad news.” He stepped toward her and handed her the missive. Let her read the decision herself.

  She smoothed out the rumpled parchment and read the short message. Her delicate eyebrows shot up in surprise. “He canna be serious.”

  “I’m afraid he is, Maggie.” He stood before her, breathed in her scent, ached to pull her into his arms.

  Now she gawked in disbelief. “Ye and me? ‘Tis foolishness.” She looked at the message again and said quietly, “Ye doona even like me.”

  “Not every moment of every day, nay. Sometimes you make me crazy.” When she glanced up and huffed in irritation, he added, “But sometimes I do, indeed, like you.”

  She huffed and her breasts rose and fell in a way he couldn’t resist watching. “Well, ye doona love me.”

  “Few marriages, as you know, involve love. At least not at the start. But I believe we’ll get along.”

  “I’ve strong feelings around ye, I admit to that. But I doona love ye either.” She motioned toward the desk. “There are plenty of times when we doona get along so verra well.”

  “Maggie, you’re a woman who will always need a strong man to deal with you on occasion. You would run over a lot of men. You will never run over me.”

  She pursed her lips and he thought she looked adorable, which was crazy. “And ye need a woman who’ll not let ye have yer way on everything. A woman who’ll stand up to ye time and again. Even if she must feel the flat of yer hand on her poor bottom sometimes fer doing so.”

  She was right about all that she’d said. He liked her most of the time, a lot. He didn’t love her, though, nor did she love him. Considering she held him responsible for leaving her brother Brodie behind to die, she would never have warm feelings for him. But she was a woman who would never easily let him have his way in something she thought wrong. She didn’t mind speaking her opinion and going nose-to-nose with him at times. And she might not like it, but she accepted his discipline when he believed it necessary. He knew they had a good chance at a decent marriage.

  “The decision has been made. We will marry in two days time.” He wanted to give his people the chance to accept their marriage, the chance to have their first real celebration since his taking over Middleham. “You will start making arrangements with the servants. I will send for my priest at Spennithorne.”

  Her defiant chin thrust forward and she narrowed her eyes. “Even if I doona’ want this?”

  He was tired of arguing with her. His mind was made up and they would be married. To keep her from protesting further, he pulled her into his embrace and kissed her. At first she resisted, and then she seemed to melt into him. Her arms encircled his waist. Her lips softened and pressed against his harder, demanding more.

  He gave her more. He kissed her with everything that was in him. Kissed her until his body throbbed for relief, relief that he didn’t dare seek now. Soon though. Soon he would have this passionate woman in his bed. Maybe they didn’t love one another, but they shared a powerful attraction. He knew she was innocent, knew she didn’t understand the feelings surging through her, didn’t understand just what she was doing to him at the moment with her luscious body pressed so close to him. But he would teach her about making love and the wonders of it.

  She moaned, rubbing against his hardened cock. He nearly swept her up to carry her to his bedchamber. Instead he pulled away from her and drew in a shuddering breath. He watched disappointment fill her heated eyes. He battled down the desire to take her to the floor here and now.

  “Two days, Maggie.” He turned her toward the door and lightly swatted her bottom. “Go now, before I do something I shouldn’t.”

  She looked back at him for a second but then hurried out of the solar without saying a word.

  * * *

  The keep was abuzz with noise by the time Maggie came down to break her fast the next morning. She’d stayed upstairs longer than normal. Fia had fussed around her and over her from the second she stepped foot out of bed. Her friend had wanted her to be dressed just right this morn, wanted her hair brushed until it gleamed and even started talking about how she would fix it for the wedding ceremony. Fia was far more excited about the wedding than Maggie.

  Now, as Maggie stood on the bottom step and looked into the massive great hall, she realized all of the staff of Middleham was excited about
the festivities tomorrow. Maids were already at work cleaning the tapestries on the wall beside the large, walk-in fireplace. Others were cleaning the Middleham shield and weaponry above the fireplace. Still others were instructing some of Nicholas’ men on removing the soiled rushes around the long tables and putting down fresh ones. And as they worked, there was much talking, much good-hearted teasing and much laughter. If only she felt so eager and happy about the situation.

  It struck her that this was the first time she’d come downstairs since her arrival here and not felt tension in the air. Another quick look around told her why: Mary was nowhere to be seen. Which put a smile on Maggie’s face and lightness to her step as she moved into the hall.

  The cook happened to pop into the room and noticed her. A look of pleasure spread over her wrinkled face and she called to one of the maids. “Our lady is here! Quick, fetch her a fresh pasty and a mug of honey mead.”

  “Doona’ bother. I can fetch it myself.” Maggie started toward the kitchens.

  “Nay. You’ll be sitting yourself down.” Abigail, the cook, hurried over only to sit on the bench beside the first table. “I’m wanting to go over the menu for the feast with you.” She pursed her lips for a second. “Lady Stanhope tried to tell me to keep it small. She said you didn’t want anything fancy. But Lord Middleham happened by just as she said that. He said we’d be having a fine feast, a grand celebration, and to find out the specifics from you.”