The Maid of Lorne (9 page)

A momentary pang of regret filled him at this news. Ah, so that was what required her to visit her chambers before coming here, and what caused her maid to blush. “Your courses are…”

“Aye.” She glanced away and would not meet his gaze.

“Things will not always be as they are now, Lara. This place will not be your prison for much longer.”

“What do you mean? Will you put me aside, then? Or will your king intercede to end this marriage?”

“We face many uncertainties in these next months and years. The king has not yet announced his decision
for the final disposition of MacDougall lands. I think it best to wait for his word in this.”

He knew so much more, but could not share it with her or anyone yet. Within a week, all would be made clear and everyone would know that their marriage was not some temporary arrangement to be cast aside when the king moved on from here in pursuit of his kingdom.

She stood and walked to the hearth, leaning over it silently for a short time. Then, she looked at him. “I am certain I know what your king wants in this, but tell me of Sebastien of Cleish and what he wants?”

He needed no time to think on his words. “First, I am a faithful vassal of my king, and second, a man who sometimes wants too much too quickly. But ‘tis the Bruce’s wishes that will decide the matter.”

Her eyes were haunted now, with some intangible emotion that he could not name. “You know your place. What is to become of me now that you and your king are here?”

“Mayhap if we begin by asking who is the Maid of Lorne and what does she desire?” He asked the question to her now and waited to hear the description she would choose—it would say much about her.

“I am a woman with no father and no family and no home to call her own. I am a woman who gave herself to her enemy. I am the Maid of Lorne no more.” Her voice shook in its desolation.

He stood and walked up behind her. Reaching out, he slipped his arm around her shoulders and drew her back against him. She stilled in his embrace, but did not pull away. Sebastien whispered in her ear.

“Do not despair, Lara. Many others have been in similar circumstances and survived, even made good lives of bad beginnings. The Bruce is a fair man and I trust his judgment in this matter.”

She did not move or acknowledge his words at all, so he released her and stepped back. “I must go on a mission for the king soon and will leave Hugh in charge of Dunstaffnage. No harm will come to you while he is in command here.”

The emptiness in her gaze unsettled him, and he acknowledged that he would rather face her anger or her confusion or any other emotion she could feel rather than this melancholy. How could he draw forth her anger?

“You asked what I want, Lara. What does Sebastien of Cleish want? I want you, Lara. I want to hold you and feel your body as it heats to my touch. I want you to open to me and I want to fill you with myself.”

She met his eyes and hers widened as she recognized the pure lust and wanting he was feeling at that moment. He took a step closer and she took one back. Finally, he reached across the gap between them, pulled her into his arms and kissed her the way he’d wanted to all night. Indeed, the way he’d wanted to since the night they were wed.

He slid his hands to each side of her head and held her still as his mouth claimed hers. He took advantage of her surprise to taste her deeply, to touch his tongue to hers and to press his mouth to hers, over and over again. He stared into her eyes until she closed them. Sebastien felt her hands come up onto his wrists as though she would stop him, but she did not.

And she did not pull away from him or his kisses.

Soon they were both out of breath from the intensity of his plundering. He leaned away and slid his hands down her neck and over her shoulders. He grazed her breasts with the backs of his fingers as they moved down to grasp hers. The shudder that moved through her stirred him even more.

“We do not have to be enemies, Lara. We can be husband and wife, man and woman.”

As though opening the shutters in a dark room, his words pierced through the seduction he wove around her, and brought her to herself. Not even a day had passed since her cousin had accused her of whoring with the enemy, and she stood her ready to give herself over to his passions.

“If you die in the service of your king, I will be wife to the enemy no more,” she said, wiping her hand over her mouth to remove any taste of him. “As you said, things will not always be as they are now, but I will always be a MacDougall, while you remain a nameless bastard serving an upstart who thinks he should be king.”

Lara threw out the insult and waited for his reaction, dreading it and yet praying for it at the same time. She had listened to the gossip of the servants since their capture. She had discovered this weakness even as he probed for hers. Now, when she felt unable to resist him and his appeal, she had ruthlessly used it to force some room between them.

And it worked.

As she watched, his face transformed into the warrior she’d faced from the battlements that first day. His
green eyes grew cold and distant, and she could see him wrapping his control around himself even as she pushed her righteous anger forward as her shield.

“I think it would be best if you retired, lady,” he said, breaking the silence. “Seek your chambers now.” He strode to the door and pulled it open with such force that it crashed against the wall after slipping from his grasp.

Margaret and his man Hugh jumped to their feet and stared in at them. Surprised to see them together and obviously in each other’s company, Lara censured her maid with a warning glance. Apparently, Margaret was suffering from the same weakness that her lady was damned by—an attraction to the enemy. Taking her arm, Lara pulled her away and up the stairs to her room to safety.

“I cannot tell if you are feeling victorious or not.”

Sebastien stood back and allowed Hugh entrance to the solar. His friend immediately sat at the table and began picking food off the plates still there. Although the dishes were now chilled, Hugh did not hesitate to taste all he could. Too many days and nights without food trained warriors to eat when food was available. After allowing his anger to dissipate, Sebastien closed the door and joined Hugh at the table. Choosing a joint of rabbit that had been braised in a rich broth, he tore off and passed to his friend a chunk of bread to use on the juices. They dipped the bread, chewed it thoroughly and swallowed, almost in unison. “Indeed, Hugh. I do feel the victor in this.”

“From the expression on her face, the lady does not
feel the same way.” Hugh poured wine into both goblets and drank from the nearest one. “I would hide my sword, if I were you, and not leave it within her reach. You might be missing some body parts that are best kept, if you take my meaning?”

Sebastien laughed then, confident in the results of the encounter with his wife. “As you will be if she discovers your attentions to her maid.” Hugh flinched at his words. “There is not much that goes on here that I do not know about, friend. Have a care if you only dally with the lass.”

Holding out the goblet, Hugh offered a mock salute. “So what did you learn?”

“She wants me.”

“That was the purpose of this whole escapade, then?” Hugh asked, looking over the remnants of the supper and the room. “To see if you could make her desire you? You may need my counsel if that was your aim.”

“That would have been too simply done,” he said with a laugh, knowing it for the boast it was. “Her world has been torn down around her and she has been left to pick up the shattered remains.”

Hugh shrugged. “This is war.”

“Ah, but she is mine now.”

“And this changes everything?” Hugh frowned as he thought on what Sebastien said. “Please do not say that you plan to keep her after all? A wife, Sebastien?”

“Aye,
my
wife.”

Hugh let out a loud exasperated breath. “So, pray tell me, sir knight, what is this plan of yours?” He slammed down the food in his hands and wiped his
palms across the cloth on the table in a deliberate move to aggravate him and remind them both of their origins.

“She handles challenges best when angry, so I angered her.”

“And that will accomplish what?” Hugh stood and sought another pitcher of wine. Finding only ale, he poured that in his goblet this time. Sitting back down, he drank from the cup.

“It will make your life more difficult while I am away.” Sebastien nodded a salute to him. “And it will give her the backbone needed these next days while I am with the king.”

“My thanks for your kind consideration, friend.”

“Ah…come now, Hugh. Surely you can manage one angry woman? So long as she never discovers what you and her maid are up to, you should probably remain safe. Well, at least alive.”

“As you wish, Sebastien. Although I confess I do wish you’d change your thinking on this matter and ask the king’s permission to dissolve this union when you have his ear.”

“I will consider your words,” Sebastien said, ending the discussion. “Now, has Etienne met with the old man yet?”

“He has and not gotten too far, I fear. Callum is just as obstinate as his lady.”

“That is another of your duties then while I see to the king.”

“Sebastien,” Hugh whined. “This is conveniently timed for you.”

“Come now, Hugh. Use your skills as a negotiator and have this in place before I return. Do not fail me
in this.” Sebastien stood and gestured for Hugh to come along. “The lady is agitated and will take some time to fall asleep. I want to show you my plans for a new building along the south wall.”

H
e left a day earlier than planned, and led his men under cover of night and by boat rather than marching the entire distance. Sebastien felt confident that the change in location for the meeting was warranted. If Eachann was indeed in the area, his spies were watching every move made by the king’s forces, and he would know of the plans to meet in Kilcrenan. At the last moment possible, Sebastien had moved the king’s gathering to the priory of St. Modan’s in Ardchattan and sent out trusted messengers to inform those involved of the change.

Pleased by the obvious insult to the MacDougalls’ honor that it was—Ardchattan had been founded and long supported by the clan—Sebastien longed to see both Eachann’s and his father’s expressions when they discovered the ruse and the truth of it. Since that would not be possible, he contented himself that he had once again protected Robert from danger.

As all of Robert’s allies gathered to discuss the future of his kingdom, Sebastien prepared himself for the
fight. Robert assured him that it would not undermine the support, both in fighting men and money, that they gave to his campaigns, but Sebastien worried. Now that the nobles were gathering, the king’s plans would be known to all.

As was his custom, Sebastien did not claim a place near the king, preferring to be with his back against a wall—a sturdy wall—where he could see everyone’s movements and the way in which the gathering would progress. And where he could keep watch out the door to make certain his guards missed nothing.

Most of the principals were present by midday and the king called for their attention. Sebastien smiled at the Bruce’s use of the old Gaelic. Diplomat and planner that he was, this demonstrated Robert’s Scottish character at a time when Norman, French, English and even Irish loyalties pulled many in different directions.

Sebastien caught the eye of James Douglas and nodded. The Black Douglas had, at Robert’s specific orders, recently razed his own castle to keep the English from it, and must be perplexed by Robert’s decision over Dunstaffnage. Sebastien glanced around the large chamber and saw all of the king’s closest friends, advisors and allies. Neil Campbell, Edward Bruce, Gilbert de la Haye, Robert Boyd, even the recently returned to grace Thomas Randolph was present.

Realizing the importance of safety for these men, Sebastien slipped from the chamber to walk the grounds once more and to speak with each of his sentries. Checking the church, where they’d detained all of the monks as well as any who worked for the priory, he found all as it should be. At the gates, his own
men stood watch. Each noble had traveled lightly to avoid detection, and brought with him only a small number of warriors. Those men were now deployed in the woods and valleys that surrounded the priory to prevent an attack. Convinced that all safeguards were in place, Sebastien returned to the meeting chamber and to his position by the door.

“You cannot give this to him!”

He shook his head as the first words he heard were yelled at the king. Robert had made his wishes known. Crossing his arms over his chest, Sebastien leaned against the wall, ready for Robert’s summons. The rest argued about him as though he were not present.

“He has no family ties,” shouted the Earl of Lennox.

“All the better to serve me with unquestioning loyalty,” Robert replied. “Family ties sometimes force our hand in ways we regret.”

Silence reigned for a moment. So many families had been split apart by the battle for the Scottish throne. No doubt many men were remembering that now.

“He is only a soldier, sire. Not fit to hold such an important post,” someone called out. Sebastien did not recognize the voice and did not wish to.

“He was knighted the morning of our battle in the pass. By my decree and my own sword. Would any of you argue that his accomplishments are not worthy of knighthood?”

Robert was sly; he ignored the general practice that knighthood was reserved for men of good background and only those who had trained for years. Sebastien had been trained, of course, on the true battlefields,
where success meant life and failure meant death. There could be no better teacher.

“His spies and information have saved my arse more than once,” the Douglas shouted, and most there laughed. “If Dunstaffnage must stand…” he paused and spat on the ground “…and I ken Robert’s need for this one…” he looked at many of the men and met their gazes “…then Sebastien of Cleish has my support to hold it.”

Sebastien had not realized he was holding his breath. At the Douglas’s declaration, he let it out and began to think this would work out for the best. Robert waved him forward, and Sebastien left his place by the door and walked to the king.

“’Tis settled then this day. Sebastien of Cleish is now laird and royal warden of Dunstaffnage and guardian to the children of John of Lorne. Malcolm MacDougall is in your charge until he can pledge for himself before me. Train him well, Sebastien, for we will need more warriors for the battles to come.”

“And the other MacDougalls, sire?” Sebastien asked, for their future had not been disclosed.

“The same as the rest—they pledge their support or they are exiled. Make it so within the next month, for I want the area secure.”

“As you order, sire,” he answered, with a bow. He regained his place in the back before Robert’s words made sense. He’d been named Laird—Lord—of Dunstaffnage. No longer a simple soldier or even a knight, he was now, by the king’s decree, a lord of the realm.

After years of practice, he was not so enamored by the pronouncement that he missed the discontent and
grumbling of some present there. The Campbell contingent seemed the most unhappy by this move. Their lands lay all around the MacDougalls’ in Argyll, and they had certainly hoped that the land and castle would be annexed to their properties.

They approached the king immediately to make their case, but he waved them off. “Come, we have much to discuss about our enemies. Rather than wasting our time with arguments between friends, we must decide about moving north.”

Any further discussion was squashed and the subject of the Earl of Ross was raised then. The earl’s part in the capture of Robert’s wife, daughter and sister, along with others, made Robert ripe to consider a decisive action against the man. Now, with the east and south mostly secured, they could move against their few remaining Scottish opponents before turning their efforts on ridding the country of the English.

In spite of the importance of such a discussion, all Sebastien could think about was Lara. Now he could offer her a place, a home and family, and the security of being his wife in truth. But, how would she react to this news?

No matter how he convinced himself that he had goaded her into her insults, the ones she’d made about him being a bastard stung. It was the truth, but she knew not all the facts surrounding his birth and his parentage. No one did, save Hugh.

One night after Sebastien had been wounded in a battle and was delirious from the ensuing fever, he’d revealed to his friend details he’d sworn would never be spoken of. Hugh had vowed to never let the truth be
known, and the two had become the best of friends, fighting and wenching their way across Scotland in the service of the Bruce.

Now, Sebastien had risen to this new honor. Would Lara accept him as equal in rank to her? Deep in his heart, he hoped they could have a life together. Mayhap once she knew of his duties and of his guardianship of her brother and sister, she would realize the chance before them.

The meeting dragged on for two days, and then, after seeing the Bruce’s forces reunited with the king on the road that led to the shores of Loch Linnhe and the Glenmor, Sebastien took his men back to Dunstaffnage.

For the first time in his life, he allowed another word to enter his thoughts.

Home.

He was going home.

When she realized she’d been duped, or at least lied to, Lara asked permission to visit the chapel. She waited as long as she possibly could for Eachann’s man to show up. As her cousin had suggested, she’d spoken with others in the keep to gather information about the Bruce’s plans. One man overheard “Kilcrenan,” while another heard soldiers discussing a move north, over Loch Etive. A serving maid now on good terms with one of the guards told her about some talk of St. Modan’s.

Eachann’s man listened, cursed under his breath and then left without saying a word to her, so she did not know if she’d helped or not. She hoped that they
were watching the castle, and knew that Sebastien had left early for whatever his mission was. If what she’d overheard was true, he would be back in another day or so.

Once they’d entered the castle, the guards dropped away from her side and she was permitted to walk freely there. A surprise from
her husband,
Sir Hugh had announced the morning after he’d gone. Still furious over Sebastien’s attempts to seduce her, she’d awakened to find his place in the bed marked but cold, and him and his soldiers already on their way. When Sir Hugh had appeared, to explain the new rules regarding her restrictions, or lessening of them, Etienne and old Callum had stood at his side.

Another change wrought by
her husband.
Callum now served Etienne in his duties as steward of Dunstaffnage. She wanted to rush to his side and ask Callum about his new position, but he warned her off with a look. Mayhap the old man was not so changed then in his ways.

So, she accepted the new rules about where she could and could not go, and then set off to discover the changes since her husband took control.

The storerooms beneath the hall were filled now with all manner of foodstuffs and provisions. Instead of coming from surrounding farms belonging to her family, supplies began to arrive from all different places. A new smithy was being constructed off the kitchens, as was another storehouse. The yard was filled with the sounds of renovations from morning until dark. Lara found the best place to watch was from the battlements, so she spent most of the next days
there. Margaret would stay with her for a time and then she would beg off and leave.

Malcolm and Philippe had also managed to become fast friends in a short time. Sebastien had assigned them to duties in the stables and in the smithy, and they were anything but quiet when together. Although Philippe was older by four years, he accepted the difference and kept her brother close. Largely ignored by their father, Malcolm now began to thrive under the attention of these other men.

Catriona, who had been so close to Lara since her birth, and especially these last weeks, now clung to Margaret, or sometimes, with childish affection, shadowed Phillippe’s movements while he was inside the keep.

Lara stood looking over the wall into the yard, wondering if she was seeing the new Dunstaffnage. And if it were, where did she fit in? By the seventh day of Sebastien’s absence, she was no closer to discovering it. And on the eighth day, when he rode back into the yard, she knew her world had changed once more.

He dismounted and Sir Hugh approached him quickly. They put their heads together for a few minutes and she could tell even from her distance that Hugh was thoroughly questioning Sebastien about something. Then, Hugh stepped back and shook his head—clearly not believing whatever Sebastien had said. Both men laughed loudly and then embraced each other.

Clearly good news. For someone.

More words were exchanged and several orders called out to men close by. More gathered, and she
watched as the news spread across the yard, among his soldiers, even to the MacDougall servants and anyone else present. Then she noticed that Sir Hugh was pointing in her direction, and Sebastien headed for the stairway.

Lara stood back and waited, wanting but not wanting to go and meet him. Curious about what news he brought, she found her hands trembled. Clasping them, she took a deep breath and let it out. He paused to speak to the guards along the perimeter, then reached her side quickly.

“Lady,” he said with a bow. “How do you fare?” She felt the heat of his gaze as it moved over her.

“Well, sir.” Except that her hands still shook. Then Lara noticed the blood on his leg and his arm. Fresh blood, from its appearance. “You had some trouble?”

“A minor skirmish a few miles from here. I assure you, I am none the worse for it.” He stepped closer and, without warning, kissed her on the forehead. “I am glad you are well then, lady. I fear we separated on less than ideal terms at our last encounter.” His face flushed as though he had admitted more than he wished to, and he cleared his throat before speaking again. “I have missed you, Lara.”

Surprised by his words and his forthright, even bold, manner, she could not answer. Before either of them could say anything more, a guard approached rapidly and called out to him.

“My lord, Sir Hugh said to tell you that everyone is gathering as you ordered.”

My lord? The guard called him lord? She stared at him, waiting for his explanation…or his correction of the guard’s address.

“Tell Hugh that we shall be there momentarily,” he replied without looking away from her, and then he waited for the guard to leave. “There is news I would share with you before we go to the hall.”

“I suspected as much. And, if it was good news for me, you would not be hesitating and wanting to give it to me in private,” she said.

“It could be, if you let it be, Lara.”

Her mouth went dry as he spoke her name in that low voice, and the tremors spread through her. Could he see what his voice alone did to her? “What has happened?”

“The king has announced his decision about Dunstaffnage.”
And about you…
He did not say it, but she knew. “I have been appointed royal warden and guardian of both Malcolm and Catriona.”

“There is more. I can see how you guard your words and give me this news of great import piece by piece. Come, sir, tell me the rest.” She tried to imagine the worst and could not, most likely a testament to the last month of her life.

“He has made me Laird of Dunstaffnage and has awarded me these lands and the title until Malcolm is of an age to pledge for himself.”