A Rough Wooing

A ROUGH WOOING Novella by Virginia Henley Ebook copyright Virginia Henley, 2011 Cover Copyright Marsha Canham, 2012 Smashwords edition published February 2012 This short story is a work of fiction and originally appeared in the full length anthology, Masters of Seduction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either products of the author's imagination or used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental. All rights reserved. No part of this publication can be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, without permission in writing.

CHAPTER ONE

Beaumont, Northumberland March 1603 “You are trespassing.” Douglas Elliot threw back her head and laughed at the dark-visaged male astride the sleek black Thoroughbred. “Don’t be ridiculous. You cannot possibly own Hadrian’s Wall. Who the devil do you think you are?” “Sir Lancelot Greystoke. This land happens to be mine.” Douglas laughed again. “Lancelot? How ironic. Your namesake was known for chivalry not arrogance.” Greystoke stared at the beautiful young woman standing atop the ancient Roman wall. Her flaming red hair was disheveled by the wind and she seemed to be relishing this confrontation with him. Her amusement was infectious. The corner of his mouth twitched. “May I know your name?” “Indeed you may not, Sir Lancelot.” His dark eyes kindled. He noted the fine wool riding skirt, the leather boots, and the green velvet doublet and matching cloak. “Then I shall call you Firebrand.” She tossed her head and her glorious hair streamed like a banner in the wind. Douglas Elliot had more good sense than to tell the English noble her name, for then he would know she was a Scot who lived a few miles across the Border at Castle Elliot, near Langholm. The English and the Scots were born enemies. “What brings you to Beaumont?” Ah, so that grand abode is Beaumont Hall as I suspected, and its owner is the nephew of Clifford, the Earl of Cumberland. She shrugged a shapely shoulder. “Curiosity.” Almost against his will he admitted that he found her earthy attraction irresistible. He wanted to lure her closer. “Then allow me to satisfy your curiosity.” His arm swept toward the hall. “I invite you to have a closer look.” Her thoughts darted like quicksilver as she weighed the risk and came to a decision. He watched her face as she quickly assessed his offer. When she accepted with no discernible hesitation, he knew she loved a challenge. Does danger excite her? Douglas watched him dismount, and noted he was tall. Well over six feet. He strode toward her and raised his arms. She laughed again, delighted to thwart him. “I can’t leave my mount untethered.” He experienced a stab of disappointment. “There’s a gap in the wall about two hundred yards in that direction you can ride through.” He watched her leap from the wall and disappear, before he remounted and galloped toward the gap. Her sure-footed Border pony confirmed his suspicion that the fiery beauty was a Scot. They rode side by side toward the hall, and when Douglas saw at least eight thoroughbreds grazing in the paddock she experienced envy for the first time. Why should this arrogant English noble own such fine horseflesh? Langholm near Castle Elliot was known for its horse racing, but Greystoke’s animals were far superior than anything in Scotland. The Scottish Border Marches have felt the onslaught of English invaders for decades. No wonder they are wealthy!

Douglas conveniently overlooked the fact that Scots Borderers raided cattle and robbed the English on a regular basis. The Elliots, and their neighbors the Grahams and the Armstrongs used the code words “There will be moonlight again” to pass along the message that a raid was being planned. “Your thoroughbreds are magnificent, but don’t you worry about reivers?” “Constantly. I am a Border Warden. I patrol Cumberland to keep it safe from the Scots.” Douglas felt the hairs prickle on the back of her neck. She ignored the urge to flee. “Knowing that makes me feel safer in my bed. I thank you for your service, sir.” He felt himself harden. Bed is the last place I’d keep you safe, Firebrand. Lance Greystoke drew rein before the grand steps that led up to the mansion. The portico boasted elegant columns that rose the full two-stories of Beaumont. The stone hall had an attractive pink cast because it was built from the same sandstone as Carlisle Castle, the great English stronghold that lay four miles to the south. “Would you like to see inside? The Great Hall boasts a massive fireplace at each end and high mullioned windows.” “Do you have a library?” He heard the eager note in her voice that told him she loved books. “Indeed I do have a library whose bookshelves reach to the ceiling.” She gave him a radiant smile. “Then how can I resist?” He dismounted in a flash, quickly tethered their mounts, and came to her side. He took a deep appreciative breath, inhaling her fragrance of lemon verbena. This time he did not offer his arms because he knew she was perverse enough to reject him. Douglas suspected it was a shrewd calculation on his part, because that is exactly what she had planned to do. She slid from the saddle, making sure her shapely legs clad in the soft leather boots were displayed for his enjoyment. As they climbed the steps together, she realized she only came up to his shoulder, and his powerful build made her feel extremely feminine. He opened the heavy door and her skirt brushed against his legs as she walked into the entrance hall. A male servant nodded to the master, then discreetly disappeared. It made Douglas wonder just how frequently females visited Beaumont Hall. She was drawn to the Great Hall by the crackling fire. He towered beside her as she held out her hands to the welcome heat. I could warm my hands at your blazing hair. She glanced up at him as if she had heard his thought. “My hospitality is remiss. Would you prefer wine or mulled ale?” She stared about the room and saw the wine table with its crystal decanters. “Mulled ale, please.” He hid his amusement. “I thought you would. I’ll fetch a barrel of ale from the still-room. Why don’t you wait for me in the library?” “A brilliant suggestion.” The library opened off the Great Hall, and when Douglas saw the spacious room with its leather-bound volumes stretching up to the ceiling, she was once again consumed with envy. There were almost too many books to comprehend. Her attention was caught by a silver reflection of light on the polished oak desk, and it drew her like a lodestone. The exquisite object was a large mirrored pendant. She picked it up reverently and stared into its depths in awe. She had never seen anything quite like it before and she coveted it with all her heart. She ran her finger over the delicate silver filigree and touched her fingertip to the glittering emeralds that formed a vine. She wondered if the flowers could possibly be cabochon diamonds. Suddenly, she saw the reflection of a dark face in the mirror. She gasped and spun around guiltily to find Greystoke behind her. “I thought your fascination was books, but I see you are also drawn to objets d’art.” “Only if they are priceless!” she assured him.

He set down the two mugs of ale he was carrying on a small table before the library fire, took the poker and shoved it into the coals. When it glowed red he thrust the poker into the ale, heating it until it foamed. He handed her a mug and gestured toward a pair of cushioned chairs beside the desk. Douglas sat down, lifted the ale to her lips, and took a few swallows with lusty appreciation. “Thank you. It’s delicious. I warrant you brew it yourself.” He nodded. “I’m glad you like it.” “It’s almost as good as the ale my brother brews,” she teased. Her eyes were drawn back to the mirrored medallion. “How old is that lovely pendant?” “I would guess it is quite ancient. I believe it is a Byzantine treasure brought back from the Crusades. It belonged to my grandmother.” “A gift from a besotted lover perhaps?” His dark eyes licked over her like a candle flame. “Perhaps.” Douglas stood up and strolled to the bookshelves, avidly reading the titles as she drank her ale. Thou shalt not covet thy neighbor’s library, she admonished herself with a sigh, but I could stay in this room for weeks and never want to leave. She drained her tankard and threw him a reluctant glance. “Unfortunately, all good things must end. I thank you for your hospitality Lance Greystoke, but now I must bid you adieu.” “The pleasure was mine, Firebrand.” Her mouth curved. “Yes, I rather think it was.” ~~~ “Where the devil have ye been, Douglas?” Young Rob Elliot put the salmon he had just caught into the deep basket attached to his saddle. “Yer a right bitch of a sister, roaming off for hours. We’d best get back over the Border before the light starts to fade.” She tossed her head. “Neither England nor her inhabitants intimidate me.” “Then yer daft. We could be accused of poaching salmon from the River Esk.” “We simply followed the Esk from beside our own castle, when we saw the salmon were running. How are we to know where Scotland ends and England begins?” “We know, all right. You know these Borders like the back of yer hand.” “I’ll give you the back of my hand, Rob Elliot, if you don’t shut your gob!” Rob thought Douglas looked like a cat that had swallowed the cream as they rode the dozen miles back to Castle Elliot and he wanted to wipe the smug look from her face. “Jock should be back from Edinburgh this week. That will curtail yer freedom. You know how he likes to rule the roost.” Their eldest brother had been head of the family for the past five years, since their father had died in service to the Crown. King James had appointed Jock and his mosstroopers to his late father’s wardenship, patrolling the Scottish side of the Borders. Douglas hid a smile. “You forget that Jock will likely bring Mother back with him.” Their grandfather, Sir Archibald Douglas, had bequeathed his Edinburgh townhouse to his daughter Katherine, and she spent the winter months there, often attending Court functions, returning to Castle Elliot in April each year. Rob lapsed into silence. His mother’s return could curb his own freedom. ~~~ “Salmon—my favorite fruit!” Gavin Elliot sat at the head of the long trestle table in the Great Hall. “We have Douglas and Rob to thank,” he told the dozen moss-troopers, who were mostly Elliots and a few Grahams, who made the castle their home. “Ye have me to thank,” Rob asserted. “Douglas buggered off and left me to it.” “I was on a fishing expedition of my own.” As all eyes swung to her, she leaned forward and shared her news. “Once we crossed the Border into England, I took advantage and did a bit of exploring. A couple of miles beyond where the River Esk empties into Solway Firth lies the River Eden. When I saw I was at Beaumont, I scouted about for the grand English mansion known as

Beaumont Hall.” “When we go on our occasional night rides, Jock always insists we stay clear of the place,” Gavin declared. “Its owner is rumored to be the nephew of Clifford, Earl of Cumberland, who is high in the favor of the English Queen.” Douglas licked her lips and shrugged a shapely shoulder. “His name is Lance Greystoke. He’s a Border Warden.” “The Warden who patrols Cumberland has a fierce reputation—he’s hanged more than his fair share of Scots. That’s why we give Beaumont Hall a wide berth,” Gavin explained. “Ah, but did you know that he breeds magnificent thoroughbred horses? The paddock at Beaumont Hall is packed with priceless horseflesh, ripe for the plucking.” “This Greystoke and his moss-troopers are just going to sit on their arses while we ride in and steal him blind?” Neil Graham laughed. “Don’t be daft, lass.” “But he isn’t sitting on his arse at Beaumont Hall every night. He and his moss-troopers are patrolling Cumberland—and Cumberland covers a lot of territory.” The men fell silent as each one contemplated the tempting prize that lay little more than a dozen miles away, as the crow flies. Douglas pictured the lovely antique mirrored pendant. She could see every detail of its silver scrolling, every precious jewel. Then she remembered seeing Greystoke’s dark reflection when she held it in her hands. He had an animal magnetism that was both compelling and dangerous. The image made her shudder. ~~~ At Beaumont Hall, Lance Greystoke pulled on his boots and donned his leather jack. The female visitor from earlier in the day lingered in his thoughts. He strongly suspected she was a Scot, and marveled that her family allowed her to ride about the Borders unescorted. His mouth curved. No doubt she’s a willful wench who’s difficult to control. I warrant she does exactly as she pleases. Before he joined his men-at-arms who were in the stables, saddling their mounts for their night patrol, his thoughts drew him into the library. His spurs clattered on the oak floor as he crossed to the desk and picked up the antique pendant. As he gazed into the mirror, he saw her reflection as clearly as if she were standing before him. He could even smell her scent of verbena. She was the most tempting female he’d seen in a dog’s age. He set the jeweled mirror down, remembering how possessively she’d held it in her hands. She coveted this priceless bauble, all right. Then he mocked himself for a fool. And you coveted the Firebrand!

CHAPTER TWO “Yer cousin Will is riding in, hell for leather.” A breathless Neil Graham rushed down from Castle Elliot’s ramparts where he’d been on watch. Will Elliot was Jock’s lieutenant and everyone realized he must be bringing a message from Edinburgh. By the time Will arrived in the castle hall, everyone had gathered to hear what news he brought. Gavin poured his cousin a tankard of ale and thrust it into his hand. “The Queen of England is dead!” Will blurted before he took his first mouthful. Then as everyone gaped open-mouthed, he thirstily quaffed the ale. He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. “James is now King of England as well as Scotland.” The loud whoops of his audience almost raised the rafters. When some of the racket died down, Will conveyed the rest of his news. “Jock won’t be returning just yet. King James intends to waste no time riding south to claim his inheritance. Within a sennight he will leave Edinburgh for Berwick. Jock and his men are to accompany him. The news is spreading like wildfire. The mobs have filled Edinburgh Castle, all jostling for appointments from the new King of England.” Gavin Elliot spoke up. “Hells bells, this is a God-sent opportunity. When a monarch dies the laws of the land are automatically suspended. The Border families will ride into England in a mad dash for plunder.” “Jock sends a warning. He says King James is determined to make it all one country. We are to keep the peace and bury the old quarrels between English and Scots. The king has named Lord Hume to be in charge of the Scottish Marches, and the Earl of Cumberland to be head of the English Borderlands.” Douglas caught her breath. “Lance Greystoke will be the Earl of Cumberland’s lieutenant? But Cumberland’s monarch is no longer Queen Elizabeth of England, it is now King James of Scotland.” Will Elliot reached into his leather doublet, brought out an envelope, and handed it to Douglas. “Your mother entrusted me with this letter for you. My orders are to return to Edinburgh on the morrow.” “Thank you.” She was consumed by curiosity. She left the crowded hall and took the letter up to her own chamber so she could read it in private. Douglas closed her bedchamber door to shut out the raucous noise from below. She sat down at her desk, took up her letter opener and slit the wax seals on the envelope. My Dearest Douglas, I was about to start packing for my return home, when the momentous news arrived. Elizabeth Tudor’s death will bring about great changes. Nothing will be the same ever again, now that James Stewart has been named King of England. I know you were ambivalent about becoming a lady-in-waiting to Queen Anne, mainly because you feel that dark and brooding Edinburgh Castle would be as confining and inhospitable as a prison fortress. But now that fortune has smiled upon the Scots, you are presented with the chance of a lifetime. Queen Anne and her chosen ladies will shortly be traveling from Edinburgh to London. At every stop that she and her entourage make on her journey through England, she will be greeted by throngs, and feted by the English nobility as they do their utmost to curry favor with their new, young queen. To be part of the Queen’s Court in London, moving from Westminster Palace to Windsor Castle, from Hampton Court Palace to Greenwich would be beyond a young woman’s wildest dreams,

and is guaranteed to satisfy your great love of adventure. Your chances of making a good marriage will be expanded a thousandfold if you will take advantage of this splendid opportunity that now presents itself. I have every intention of joining Queen Anne’s Court, and hope with all my heart that you will join me. King James will travel to London with all speed to claim the English Crown, while Queen Anne, and her children will make a more leisurely progress. My dearest Douglas, I urge you to pack your things and accompany Will on his return to Edinburgh. Fondest love, Katherine Douglas Elliot. Douglas set the letter down and gazed across the room. Her vivid imagination conjured images of the English palaces her mother mentioned. One sentence stood out from all the rest: Your chances of making a good marriage will be expanded a thousandfold if you will take advantage of this splendid opportunity that now presents itself. Douglas smiled knowingly. Her mother’s words had been carefully chosen to lure her to Queen Anne’s Court. She had visited twice, but had not pursued the opportunity to become a lady-inwaiting. The petty rivalry between the queen’s Danish attendants and her Scottish ladies made a post at Court unappealing to Douglas. But the real reason she had stayed away from Court was to avoid the advances of Alex Hume, the young brother of Lord George Hume, the king’s Treasurer. Since Douglas’s father died while she was still a child, she was technically a ward of the Crown and would need the King’s consent to marry until she came of age. She did not care for the foppish Alex Hume and feared he would influence the king in consenting to their marriage. She looked down at the letter and read again: Your chances of making a good marriage will be expanded a thousandfold. Douglas bit her lip. She is talking about marriage to an English noble. Such an idea would have been anathema to Mother only a week ago. The thought is abhorrent to me. Unbidden, a vision came to her of Sir Lancelot Greystoke, and suddenly the thought of a noble English husband did not seem quite as abhorrent. Since childhood she had been taught to speak in a more refined manner than her brothers, who spoke with the same brogue as their moss troopers. She would not be so out of place as the wife of an Englishman. Douglas felt torn. She did have a love of adventure. Experiencing new places, customs, and people offered challenges that were hard to resist. But she knew that her personality was one part confidence and one part bold bravado—a good deal of her bravery was pretense. She dipped her pen and answered her mother’s letter. Dear Mother, Your momentous news that King James is now King of England and Scotland stunned everyone at Castle Elliot. As I write, I can still hear everyone below in the hall rejoicing over such good fortune. You are absolutely right that great changes will take place and there will be many opportunities for Scots to improve our circumstances. I think you have made the right decision to join the Royal Court and travel to London with Queen Anne, and I thank you for your generous invitation to join you. Your tempting offer has given me much food for thought. I shall consider it carefully and let you know when I have made my decision. Douglas raised her pen as she sought the words that would buy her time and pacify her mother until she had time to weigh the advantages against the disadvantages and come to a decision that would undoubtedly affect the rest of her life. She lowered the pen and wrote: If I am to join the Royal Court, my wardrobe will need much refurbishing. I will be a laughing stock if I wear my doublets and riding boots in the elegant English palaces of which you speak. In the meantime, say hello to Jock and tell him that all is well at Castle Elliot.

I hope to see you soon. All my love. Douglas. ~~~ Downstairs, she handed the letter to her brother Jock’s lieutenant, and gave him a ravishing smile. “Thank you for being my messenger, Will. I’m so sorry you cannot stay longer, and must return to Edinburgh tomorrow. Take care of yourself.” ~~~ In the Scottish Borders the news coursed like the rushing waters of a spring thaw. It made the inhabitants giddy with the thought of their good fortune and the wealth of opportunities that presented themselves. The phrase on every man’s lips was repeated over and over: There will be moonlight again! The Great Hall at Castle Elliot was filled with Borderers, and the number swelled with every passing hour. Johnstons and Maxwells rubbed shoulders with Elliots and Grahams. The ale flowed as they celebrated. Talk flowed just as freely as they made grandiose plans, and it was easy to guess the same scene was being repeated at every other castle and abode in the Scottish Marches. The following day their visitors departed and the inhabitants of Castle Elliot had a chance to talk together alone. They sat at the long trestle table before the fire in the hall. Gavin spoke first. “Johnny Maxwell plans on leading 200 riders deep into the English Borders. He says they’ll skirt Carlisle and head down to Penrith.” Neil Graham frowned. “Penrith is fifty miles from Castle Maxwell. There and back would be a hundred. That’s a hell of a long way.” Gavin nodded. “Butch Johnston intends to mount a raid on the village of Cargo, near Carlisle. He says he’ll lead a hundred riders.” “That makes more sense,” Rob Elliot said. “The ride to Cargo is practically spitting distance. The Johnstons will be there and back in their beds before the alarm is raised. The English won’t know what hit ‘em.” “Where are we going?” Douglas asked avidly. All the men threw her a look of disbelief. Most Scots females knew how to keep their place and hold their silence when men were discussing business. “You are going nowhere,” Gavin stated firmly. “Keep yer nose out of men’s affairs.” Douglas recanted immediately. “Of course I’m not going, but I know where you should go. It’s as plain as the nose on your face, Gavin. The thoroughbred horses at Beaumont Hall are there for the taking. If you don’t snatch them, others will.” Neil Graham rubbed the bristles on his chin. “We’re short on numbers. Half our mosstroopers are in Edinburgh with Jock.” Gavin raised a dismissive hand. “There’s plenty of Elliots and Grahams in Eskdale who’d pledge their right hands for a chance to ride with us.” Rob Elliot warned, “Beaumont Hall belongs to a Border Warden, who’s also Cumberland’s nephew.” “With so many families riding into England, the warden will have his hands full. And you’ll have the element of surprise on your side,” Douglas pointed out. “Fortune favors the bold. You could sell the horses in Langholm and get rid of the evidence.” Gavin looked at Neil. “You go and feel out the Grahams, and I’ll have a word with the Elliots. We’ve no time to waste. Tomorrow night there’ll be moonlight.” ~~~ Douglas waited until her younger brother Rob went off to the stables, then she went to his chamber and took from a trunk a pair of breeches and an old leather jack he had outgrown. She bundled them up and hid them beneath her bed. She was an Elliot to her very bones, and she had made up her mind that if they went on a raid across the Border tonight, she would be riding with them.

To pass the time until dark descended, Douglas took herself off to the kitchen. The aroma of baking bread filled the air, and she decided that she would make a treacle pudding. Meg, the rosycheeked cook handed her a pot of lard, a lump of suet, a sack of flour, and a rolling pin. When Meg went to the pantry to find a jar of treacle, Douglas slipped a sharp kitchen knife down her boot. That night at dinner, Douglas counted two dozen extra men, all Elliots and Grahams who lived along the River Esk. She noticed that Gavin kept an eye on the ale that was served. He allowed them enough to give them courage, but not an excess that would make them intoxicated. After dinner, they stretched out on the flagstones of the hall, casting dice, and passing the time until the moon rose. Douglas yawned and bade them all goodnight. She dished out a plate of treacle pudding and carried it upstairs with her. She sat down on her bed to eat it and fortify herself against the cold ride through the dark fells. She shivered with excitement as she braided her long hair and wrapped the plaits around her head. She changed into the breeks and leather jack, knowing that this would be the sort of night that would make her glad she was alive. From her window she could watch the rising moon, and when she saw the shadowy figures of the men silently heading toward the stables, excitement ran along her veins as she anticipated the raid that lay ahead. Her plan was to wait until they had all gone. It would be easy to catch up with them and ride at the back of the pack. She opened a dresser drawer and took out a beaver bonnet. She pulled it on her head and tucked in her plaits, then she went to her mirror to make sure there were no telltale red tendrils sticking out. As she examined her reflection, she saw the image of Lance Greystoke in its silver depths. His dark eyes were accusing, and she glanced away quickly, determined to banish the English noble from her thoughts. When she approached the stables, all was silent. A stable lad approached, and she waved him off with a masculine gesture. She saddled her Border pony, mounted, and trotted out into the castle bailey. She hugged the mare with her knees and pulled up the collar of her leather jack to keep out the wind. It was a cold night, but as she galloped along the river, the excitement of her adventure kept her warm, and she stifled the urge to throw back her head and laugh with glee. It didn’t take her long to catch up with the others. Their hoofbeats were muffled by the grass, but the silhouettes of the thirty-odd riders were visible in the moonlit shadows. She caught up with them and rode beside her brother Rob until they got near the English Border. Finally, he recognized her pony. “Christ, Douglas, what the hell are ye about?” “I scouted the horses at Beaumont. It was my idea to take them before anybody else made off with them. I’m an Elliot. There’s no way I’d let you leave me behind.” “Best keep yer mouth shut. If Gavin finds out, he’ll give ye a thrashin’.” The riders slowed their pace as they spotted about a hundred mounted men ahead of them. “That’ll be the Johnstons on their way to Cargo. Best not let them see us, if we don’t want the Beaumont thoroughbreds snatched from under our noses.” She nodded and drew rein until the Johnstons put some distance between them. Her heart began to pound from the heightened danger of the raid now that they were about to cross over into England. What if Greystoke is at Beaumont defending his property? A goose walked over her grave and she shivered. “Rob, promise me you won’t use your pistol!” “Not unless I have to,” he said with a grin. They crossed the Border, and left the River Esk behind. When they got to the River Eden, the pale moonlight touched everything with silver and shadow. They arrived at Greystoke’s property of Beaumont, and Gavin gave the orders to fire all the hayricks in the pasture. This would draw the men at the stables guarding the thoroughbreds out into the pasture to put out the fires, leaving the horses unprotected long enough to be snatched away, and driven north. Douglas parted ways from the others, and guided her pony to the back of the hall. There was only one thing she was after, and she focused on its shiny image in her mind’s eye. She dismounted and

silently crept along the outside wall, looking into windows until she found the library. She made out the shape of the oak desk, and knew exactly where the priceless artefact lay. She bent down and picked up a rock from the garden, then drew back her arm and smashed out the glass in the window. She climbed up and was straddling the windowsill when a feeling of foreboding came over her. She hesitated for long minutes. The thing that stayed her had nothing to do with conscience, it was a strong sense of inner preservation. If I steal the mirror pendant, Lance Greystoke will guess it was me. He knew how much I coveted it when I held it in my hand. He’ll immediately know I had a hand in the missing thoroughbreds and will come after us. If he just finds the horses gone, he won’t connect me in any way. Hundreds of Scots reivers are pillaging tonight. Douglas withdrew her leg from the library windowsill. She got back on her pony and caught up with the rest of the riders as they were about to drive the stolen horses across the Scottish Border. Thank God I came to my senses in time. Lance Greystoke won’t have a clue who snatched his horses. Douglas heaved a sigh of relief as they neared Castle Elliot. “We’ll be safe in our beds before dawn breaks.” Rob shook his head. “Gavin arranged to deliver the horses to Sim Armstrong in Langholm. Prize thoroughbreds on Elliot land would raise too many questions.” “I hope Gavin didn’t sell them cheap. These horses are worth a fortune.” “Keep yer nose out of men’s affairs, especially Gavin’s. The less you know, the better. Get yerself to bed, and none will suspect yer reckless behavior.” Douglas nodded. She knew Rob wouldn’t tell Gavin for fear he would get the blame for allowing her to go on the raid.

CHAPTER THREE “I’ve been braced for trouble. I have watches posted along the Border, and they report that there’s a hundred riding on Cargo,” Greystoke informed the Earl of Cumberland in the Great Hall of Carlisle Castle. “The guard atop the ramparts has just spotted double that number riding south.” “Uncivilized, thieving bastards!” Cumberland cursed. “Penrith is their likely target. They are reckless fools to raid that deep into England. I’ll take my men and stop them. You head toward Cargo. If you catch any Scots stealing cattle, shoot them dead. Arrest any you find riding abroad—we’ll hang them later.” Greystoke gave his fifty troopers their orders. “Cargo is too bloody close to Beaumont for comfort. Arrest all looters—English or Scot—and bring them back to Carlisle for interrogation. We want the names of all the clans involved. King James has promised Cumberland that he’ll mete out justice against his fellow Scots, if it’s justified.” Which I will only believe when I see it with my own eyes. When they arrived at Cargo, the village had already been raided and the cattle driven off. Greystoke ordered his men to take chase and to retrieve as much livestock as they could. Lance could see fire lighting the sky from Beaumont. He cursed the Scots with a string of foul oaths, and headed to his home, riding hell for leather. When he arrived at the stables, he learned the hay had been burned and the horses stolen, but he was thankful none of his stablemen or household servants were dead. He learned his thoroughbreds had been taken by a small gang of about thirty riders, and he vowed to track them down and take back what was his. By the time Greystoke joined his men, they had crossed over into Scotland. Before they had ridden five miles they were gaining on the reivers, and suddenly the Scots abandoned about two hundred cattle they’d been driving, and took off to the west. “Don’t take chase!” he ordered. “If they’re heading west, they are likely Johnstons. We’ll herd these cows back to Cargo, and tomorrow we’ll come back and arrest as many Johnstons as we can find.” ~~~ For an entire week the Scots raided every night across the Border into England. All along the frontier they looted, burned, and plundered anything of value they could lay their hands on. The Earl of Cumberland, Greystoke, and the rest of the English Border Wardens were kept busy retrieving stolen animals, and capturing Scots marauders, imprisoning them in Carlisle Castle, the massive English Border stronghold to await trial. ~~~ It took King James only nine days after he learned of Queen Elizabeth’s death to reach Berwick, the first stop of his journey south to claim the Crown of England. When he learned from Cumberland the extent of the outbreak of thieving and violence by the Scots Borderers, he was incensed. The wild rides of his countrymen’s forays into England, marred the solemnity of his entry into his new kingdom. “The lion will lie down with the unicorn. I want England and Scotland cemented together into one country and all barriers will be obliterated!” James Stuart vowed. “Any who resist will go to the gallows, or into exile!” The seven-night orgy of thieving indulged by the Scots Borderers was referred to as ill week. The queen’s death had been a heaven-sent opportunity to cut loose in search of plunder, but the new King of England swore his unruly Border clans would be brought to justice. A crackdown of the Border Wardens followed in both the English and the Scottish marches, and arrest warrants were issued for members of every riding family.

~~~ Sir Lancelot Greystoke’s first order of business was finding his prize thoroughbreds. Cumberland has often spoken with envy of the fertile land in the Scottish Borders along the River Esk. I’ve also heard that the town of Langholm is known for its horse races, so that’s where I’ll start. Most of his troopers were occupied patrolling the English Borders and arresting marauders but he knew it would be foolhardy to cross into Scotland without an escort of armed men. He selected half-a-dozen and they set out from Carlisle Castle on a fine April morning. Greystoke had ridden the Scots Marches many times, but seldom in broad daylight. He marveled at how splendid these lands truly were. The rolling fells that bordered the River Esk were lush with brilliant green grass and spring wildflowers. They were dotted with sheep and grazing cattle, and he had no doubt that some of the livestock had been stolen in raids on England. They passed two castles and many single abodes as they galloped north, and when they reached the vicinity of Langholm, Greystoke noticed horses grazing in the fields, though none of them were his thoroughbreds. “There’s the race course.” Greystoke drew rein as he took a moment to admire the six furlough oval, then his gaze shifted to the adjacent Castle Holm owned by the Armstrongs. The castle and race course had numerous stables and grassy paddocks, and Greystoke’s keen eyes spotted a pair of his thoroughbreds frolicking in the April sunshine. He spurred his horse and his men followed him into the castle yard. When a stableman came forward, Greystoke demanded, “Who’s in charge here?” “Sim Armstrong is laird of Castle Holm,” the man answered warily. Greystoke bit back the order Fetch him. It would do no good if the stableman alerted the Armstrongs that trouble brewed. God only knew how many Armstrongs were in residence. “I’m interested in acquiring a thoroughbred. I’d appreciate a word with Sim.” The Scot nodded and crossed the yard to one of the stables. The minute he left, Greystoke’s men drew and cocked their pistols and rested them on their saddle mounts. Sim Armstrong emerged from the barn and Greystoke urged his horse forward. “You are in possession of horses stolen from England that bear my Beaumont brand. In the name of the king, I order you to submit to arrest.” Armstrong reached for his pistol, but before he could take it from its holster, he glanced up to see six pistols already cocked and aimed at his head. “I’m no’ a thief! I bought the horses fair an’ square, and paid a high price too.” “Who sold them to you?” Greystoke demanded. Armstrong hesitated. Greystoke reached into his saddlebag and pulled out a noose. “The marauding of English livestock is punishable by death.” “It were the Elliots. The marauders were the Elliots and the Grahams.” Greystoke dismounted. He approached Armstrong and slipped the noose over his head. “Order your men to fetch my horses. All of them. We’ll take you with us on a short tether as a pledge of good conduct for all at Castle Holm.” “Where are ye taking me?” Armstrong was quaking in his boots. “Carlisle Castle. You’ll provide the names of these thieving Elliots and Grahams, and I’ll issue writs of arrest. If you are found innocent of theft, I’ll release you.” When they crossed the English Border, Greystoke directed half his men to take his horses back to Beaumont Hall, while the rest accompanied him and Sim Armstrong to Carlisle Castle. The Great Hall of the Carlisle fortalice was crowded with English moss-troopers. Some had brought in Scots arrested for reiving, while others were on their way out to patrol Cumberland and

Westmoreland. Greystoke sat down at a table and took up pen and paper to write out arrest warrants. “Give me the name of the man who sold you my thoroughbreds, and all the other Elliots and Grahams you believe went on this raid.” “It was Gavin Elliot and his brothers.” “Give me their names.” “Let’s see—there’s Jock, Gavin, Douglas, and Rob Elliot. There’s some Grahams too reside at Castle Elliot. There’s more Grahams and Elliots live in Eskdale than ticks on a sheep. I can’t name them all.” “These will suffice.” Greystoke wrote the names on the arrest warrants. Then he removed the noose from Armstrong’s neck and escorted him to one of the innumerable cells in the bowels of Carlisle Castle. When he returned to the hall, Cumberland hailed him. “We’ve a dozen Maxwells to interrogate about a raid on Penrith. I think we’ve got the ring leaders. Will you sit in judgment with me, Lance?” “I was on my way to Castle Elliot to arrest four brothers who raided Beaumont and stole my horses, but I warrant tomorrow will suffice.” “The wily bastards will have flown the coop by then. Send your troopers and I’ll have some of my men join them.” Greystoke nodded, and handed the warrants to one of his trusted moss-troopers. ~~~ “Where the devil do you think yer going in leather breeches?” Gavin Elliot demanded. Douglas shrugged a shoulder. “They’re much easier to ride in than skirts.” “That doesn’t answer my question. Yer very secretive these days.” “Rubbish!” She smoothed the plaits she had pinned into a coronet. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” “I’m talking about the letter you got from Mother. If yer going to join her at Court, you won’t be able to cavort about in breeches.” “Damn you to hellfire, Gavin Elliot! How dare you read my letter?” “We’ll have no secrets from each other.” “In that case, you can tell me how much you got for the thoroughbreds.” “What thoroughbreds?” Douglas laughed. “Now who’s being secretive? If I do decide to go to Court, I’ll need some of that money you got for an elegant new wardrobe.” Gavin winked. “Come to think of it, you should wear breeches more often. They cost less than fancy frocks, and they’re ideal if you plan on helping with the lambing.” Douglas pulled on a warm doublet. “I’m just going to have a look at the new lambs now. Then I’ll ride along the river before the afternoon sun is gone. The banks of the Esk are thick with blue forget-me-nots.” Rob Elliot came clattering down the stone steps that led from the castle ramparts. “Riders! Two dozen!” Before his warning was out, they heard the thunder of hooves in the castle bailey. “Christ, you should have spotted them half-an-hour back.” Gavin strode to the window. “English! I recognize Cumberland’s livery.” “God Almighty, what’ll we do?” Rob cried. “Keep yer gob shut,” Gavin ordered. A servant came into the castle hall with two dozen troopers behind him. Without hesitation Gavin spoke to the trooper who looked to be in charge. “Afternoon, gentlemen. You have business at Castle Elliot?”

“We have arrest warrants for the Elliot brothers.” Greystoke’s lieutenant brandished a fistful of papers. “On what charges?” Gavin demanded. “Raiding English horses and selling them in Langholm.” Gavin squared his jaw. “Where’s yer proof?” “Sim Armstrong sold you out. We have him under arrest in Carlisle Castle. I have warrants here for four Elliot brothers.” “You are mistaken. Armstrong is lying. There are only three Elliot brothers.” “All Scots lie, so save your breath. I have warrants for Gavin, Jock, Rob, and Douglas.” “I am Douglas Elliot.” She stepped forward and raised her chin. The lieutenant’s eyes narrowed. “Lying won’t save your brother Douglas.” “We have no brother by that name,” Gavin declared. “Douglas is our sister. Are ye accusing her of raiding English horses? On the word of a firking Armstrong?” “I have a warrant for Douglas Elliot. It matters not if he’s male or female. Arrest the girl,” he ordered his men. Douglas brandished her riding crop and they hesitated. “Strange as well that you have an arrest warrant for Jock Elliot. My brother Jock happens to be with King James. He’ll have your head for this!” The lieutenant snorted. “I was born at night, but not last bloody night.” He turned to the servant. “Where is Jock Elliot?” “Laird Jock is in Edinburgh.” “With the king, no doubt,” the lieutenant sneered. “Which of you is Gavin Elliot?” “I am.” “And I’m Rob Elliot,” the youngest said with bravado. “Arrest all three.” Greystoke’s lieutenant watched stony-eyed as the troopers bound their prisoners wrists with leather thongs. Then he directed some of Cumberland’s troopers to make a cursory search of the castle to see if they could turn up Jock Elliot. After half-an-hour he called off the search, and they took their prisoners down to the bailey. “The light is fading fast. It’ll be dark before we get back.” “Let my sister go. She has nothing to do with this.” Gavin tried to shame him. “It’s cowardly to arrest a woman.” The lieutenant struck Gavin across the face, and Douglas spat, “It’s also cowardly to strike a bound man. But I don’t expect much from an Englishman, and I’m sure I won’t be disappointed.” The lieutenant ignored the insult. He told two of his men to take up the Elliot brothers to ride pillion. “I’ll take the girl.” Douglas glared daggers at him. “I’d rather ride my own mount.” “Not likely. You’d be off like the wind, given half a chance.” He mounted his horse and took her up behind him. Douglas wished she still had the knife in her boot. I swear I’d use the bloody thing! She knew she had never been as angry in her life. But anger was a good thing; it kept her fear at bay as the troopers rode relentlessly toward Carlisle Castle. By the time they crossed the Border into England, it was dark, and a bone-chilling terror crept over her. But Douglas swore she would rather die than let these men know she was afraid. When the lieutenant drew rein outside the vast castle stables, Douglas jumped to the flagstones before he could dismount. There was no way she would allow him the satisfaction of lifting her down. The troopers surrounded their three prisoners and escorted them into the castle. The Great Hall, ablaze with torches, was crowded with men. At the far end, trestle tables were filled with liveried moss-troopers eating the evening meal.

Though Douglas hadn’t eaten, the smell of food, mingled with tallow, smoke, and male sweat killed her appetite and made her pinch her nostrils. Dressed as she was in leather doublet and breeches, she was relieved that few men in the hall realized she was a female. “Wait here,” the lieutenant told his companions. Douglas watched him as he made his way down the hall to report to his commander. She had assumed he was one of Cumberland’s men, but now as she stared at the tall male he approached, she realized how wrong she had been. Sir Lancelot Greystoke turned his head and gazed across the hall. Their eyes met and held in a long moment of shocked recognition. Then they both quickly looked away.

CHAPTER FOUR “Why did you arrest a woman?” Greystoke demanded. “She insists that she is Douglas Elliot, my lord. We arrested Gavin and Rob Elliot, but Jock was nowhere to be found.” He handed the warrants to Greystoke. “Lock the men up with Sim Armstrong. The girl presents a bit of a problem.” Greystoke rapidly searched his mind. “Lock her in one of the storerooms next to the kitchens, and bring me the key.” He decided not to interrogate the Elliot brothers for the time being. A few days of being totally ignored often proved fruitful. He collected the storeroom key from his lieutenant and told the men to eat while the Carlisle servants were still serving dinner. Greystoke had been stunned when he saw the beautiful red-haired female across the Great Hall. Then he felt shock to realize she had been taken prisoner. She had insinuated herself into his thoughts more often than he cared to admit. Douglas Elliot! The name suits the proud firebrand. Not for a minute did he think she had taken part in the raid, but she was certainly guilty of telling her brothers about his prize thoroughbreds. My instinct told me she was a Scot, and yet I never once connected her with the theft of my horses. ~~~ Douglas heard the key turn in the lock on the heavy door. I should have known the mosstroopers had been sent by Greystoke when the charge was stealing English horses. How strange that I never made the connection. She examined her surroundings and saw by the rush light in the wall bracket that she was in a storeroom. She was greatly relieved that she hadn’t been imprisoned with rough men, but her fear had not vanished. As well as apprehension for herself, she was racked with worry about the fate of her brothers. Her stomach seemed to be in knots and she feared she might vomit. She found a small wooden bucket, just in case, and realized she might need it for other bodily functions. The small rush light flickered and she knew she had better search for things she might need while there was still a glimmer of illumination. It would help keep her panic at bay. She found a cask of cider, cupped her hand and turned the spigot. Then she lapped up the liquid to quench her thirst. Guided by her nose, she found a basket of turnips, and a container of dried damsons. She put a handful of the dried fruit in her pocket, then looked about for a place to sit. Trepidation was turning her knees to wet linen. She ran her hands over some large burlap sacks that stood against the wall, and found one that she thought held barley. She sank to the floor and leaned gratefully against the cushiony sack. Within minutes the rush light flickered out, and left her in complete darkness. I’m not afraid of the dark, she told herself fiercely. Then she mocked: There’s no need for bravado, there’s no one here to deceive other than myself. ~~~ Douglas Elliot’s eyes flew open, but she saw nothing in the pitch black darkness. She had thought herself too tense to sleep, and yet she realized a noise had awakened her. Then she heard the door creak open and her heart began to pound. She shrank back against the wall and tried to stop herself from trembling. Who is it? What do they want with me? “Come.” The voice was low and compelling. Douglas knew who it was immediately. She sat absolutely still for the count of ten heartbeats, then she got to her feet and walked slowly toward the voice. She raised her hands before her until they were touching a leather-clad chest. “What—?” “Hush!” Greystoke took her hand and led her from the storeroom into a dimly lit passage. Douglas had no idea where he was taking her, but they seemed to be going away from the kitchens, deeper into the bowels of the ancient castle. He moved silently, like a wary predator in the

forest, and she followed him quietly, hardly daring to breathe. She noticed a faint glimmer of light and as they moved toward it she saw it was coming from a wall bracket beside a heavily studded door. She heard Greystoke speak low to the guard who unlocked the door with a huge iron key, and suddenly they were outside the castle. Douglas glanced up, saw the stars, and reassured herself that she wasn’t dreaming. In unison they made their way across the flagstone yard toward the vast stables. “Wait here.” Greystoke’s tone expected her to obey him. He dropped her hand and strode into the stables. Douglas wanted to run. Here was a chance to escape, and yet she hesitated. She was conflicted. Part of her wanted to put her trust in the English noble, in spite of an inner voice that reminded her that she had been arrested on Greystoke’s orders. How can I flee without a horse? Finally, she decided to have faith in her instincts. She could hear the thudding of her heart in her ears, as the dark rider approached and reached down his arm. She put her hand in his and he hoisted her up before him. “Your hands are freezing.” He turned her toward him. “Put them inside my doublet.” Douglas did as he bade her, and was amazed at his body heat. It did not take long for Greystoke’s powerful horse to cover the four miles to Beaumont Hall. With the enchanting female between his thighs, the ride wasn’t nearly long enough, if he were being truthful. He rode into the stable, dismounted and lifted his captive down. Usually he tended his own mount, but when a stableman roused and came forward, he handed him the reins. He knew his companion was shivering and he wanted to get her inside, where the heat from the fires would warm her. When he saw the stableman’s questioning gaze slide over the redhead, he was annoyed. Keep your eyes to yourself, man. He opened the door and motioned for her to go before him. She glanced up at the tall case clock in the entrance hall and saw that it was only a few minutes past midnight. Time felt like it had stood still while she was imprisoned in the storeroom. He led her to the large stone hearth, and though the fire had burned low, it still gave off some welcome heat. As Douglas held her hands out to the warmth, she watched Greystoke throw off his leather jack, then reach out to take hers. When he removed it, she began to shiver. “I know what you need.” Greystoke moved across the room, poured something into a glass and brought it to her. “Brandy. Drink up.” His dark eyes watched her closely as she sipped the fiery liquor. Her thoughts darted like quicksilver. I’m still his prisoner. Can I persuade him to release me? Douglas counted the things she could use as a bribe. The list was a short one. She had her body and she had her wits. One thing she knew instinctively: if a female took the defensive role, a male would keep her there. She summoned her bravado, and decided to act as if they were equals. The brandy was strong and she cautioned herself to sip it slowly so she wouldn’t choke and cough. Greystoke gave her an approving look, and she suddenly felt empowered, though perhaps it was the liquor that was making her feel brave. “Is there anything else you’d like, Firebrand?” He speaks like a bloody god, bestowing his gifts from Olympus! Now’s your chance, Douglas. You don’t ask, you don’t get. I’d like to return home. I’d like the release of my brothers. Instead, she threw him a challenging smile. “Some food, and hot water to bathe.” Greystoke’s eyes widened slightly. He took the empty glass from her fingers and set it aside. Then he moved behind her, and cupped her shoulders in his strong hands. “Yes, you’re still cold, and both those things would thaw you. Curl up before the fire, while I see what I can find in the kitchen.” When he withdrew, she took a deep breath, and congratulated herself. Though he was an English nobleman, he had rescued her from prison, and was now waiting upon her. She knew that she was vain, but she had more than a suspicion that he was attracted to her. Her innate honesty compelled her to admit that she also was attracted to Lance Greystoke.

He brought her a steaming bowl of lamb and barley broth. When she took it from him, it warmed her hands, and she breathed in its tantalizing aroma. Between spoonfuls she said, “I thought only Scots enjoyed this kind of soup, but now I see it must be a Border favorite. We may have more in common than we realize.” “Such as a mutual desire for horses?” he suggested lightly. Douglas reminded herself that the English Border Warden was dangerous. She must avoid the topic of horses, lest she say something that would further incriminate her brothers. “I was thinking of home-brewed ale, salmon fishing, and books.” She gave him a rueful smile. “I envy you your library, Greystoke.” His dark eyes focused on her mouth. “You are an anomaly, a beautiful female with a penchant for reading.” She set her spoon down in the empty bowl. “And you, Sir Lancelot, are an enigma.” “I know.” He gestured toward the staircase. “I had a servant heat you some water, if you would care to follow me.” She rose to her feet slowly. Why is he giving me all I ask? When will he start taking? Her inner voice warned: He is a man. There will be a price to pay. Douglas tried to silence the voice. When I call the tune, I’m perfectly willing to pay the piper. It could be most rewarding. “Lead on, my lord.” Greystoke led her directly to his own bedchamber, where a copper bath stood before the fire. Her glance swept about the room. The furniture was polished black oak, the hangings gold velvet, and the huge bed dominated the chamber. A manservant appeared carrying two buckets of steaming water. He added it to the water already in the copper tub. Douglas smiled. “Thank you so much.” The man acknowledged her thanks with a nod, and withdrew. She sat down in a chair before the fire and proceeded to remove her boots. Then she took off her knitted hose and wriggled her bare toes in the deep-piled carpet. She paused, wondering if he would leave. When Greystoke remained, she deliberately reached up and unpinned her braids, then with deft fingers she loosened the plaited strands. She shook her head and the fiery red tresses tumbled about her shoulders. Her eyes met his in a challenge. When he made no move to leave, she was determined that he would not intimidate her, nor inhibit her, for that matter. She turned her back on him and began to unfasten the buttons at her neck. “I’ll need a towel,” she threw over her shoulder, “and something clean to put on.” Silence behind her made her glance back. Greystoke had disappeared. With all speed she stripped off her leather breeches and the rest of her clothes and climbed into the tub. The water covered only her legs and hips, but she scooped up handfuls and splashed it over her belly and breasts. Douglas let out a blissful sigh, and picked up the soap and sponge. The door opened. Greystoke hadn’t disappeared for long. He closed the distance between them. He carried a towel and a white linen shirt. “I have no female garments, Firebrand, but you don’t seem to mind male attire.” She slid down as low as she could in the tub, proving that she was both intimidated and inhibited. She clutched the sponge to her breasts like a protective shield. “Douglas, surely by now you know I won’t harm you?” “Are you telling me I can trust you?” “Good God, I wouldn’t go that far!” “You arrogant devil. Turn your eyes away, while I finish bathing.” “Not a chance.” His gaze licked over her, missing no detail. “You are extremely lovely to look at. But for me, that isn’t your main attraction.” His words so intrigued her, she forgot to clutch the sponge.

“It is your pride and confidence. It makes you incandescent. I’ve never seen a woman who seemed more alive, Firebrand.” He reached down and took the sponge, then he moved behind her, lifted her hair, and soaped her back. “Your bravado is irresistible, and your innocence draws me like a siren’s song.” “The water cools.” “My blood heats.” “Step away, or I’ll rake my nails down your face!” He chuckled. “Feisty little Scot.” He held out the towel. Her eyes widened. “You are baiting me.” He grinned. “And you are rising to the bait.” She did rise. Like Venus from the sea. She deliberately drenched him with the water. She grabbed the towel, and Greystoke grabbed her. She was panting with anger and indignation, and she struggled in his powerful arms like a wildcat. She soon realized that fighting him was useless. He was far too strong. She stilled, and to her amazement, he set her feet to the carpet. “I think we’ve succeeded in banishing your chill and warming your blood. Dry yourself and put on my shirt. I hope you enjoyed the tussle as much as I did.” He removed his soaking wet shirt, and reached for her towel. Douglas stepped back quickly before he could snatch the towel and render her naked. “How dare you?” she demanded. “‘Tis said the Scots are uncivilized, but I warrant they have nothing on Englishmen. I expected a chivalrous nobleman, not a savage barbarian!” “Thankless little bitch. I’ve rescued you, fed you, warmed you, and bathed you.” Anger darkened his eyes as he towered above her. She tossed her head, and her fiery tresses tumbled about her naked shoulders. “And for that you expect me to lick your boots! Not in your lifetime, Englishman!” Greystoke grabbed her and took possession of her mouth with his. His arms held her captive against his bare muscular chest. Heat leaped between them, as he kissed her deeply. The firm pressure of his lips gentled as she stopped struggling, and she gave herself up to his mastery. A delicious feeling of pleasure swept Douglas from her mouth to her mons. It was all new and exciting. She had challenged his manhood, and he had risen to the occasion. She could feel his hard cock against her soft flesh, and felt exhilaration at the power she had over him. He was the captor and she the captive, but suddenly she wanted to turn the tables on him. She opened her lips, and felt a surge of sensuality when his tongue thrust into the intimate, wet, dark cave of her mouth. She let go of the towel, went up on her toes, slid her arms about his neck, and pressed her full breasts against his powerful chest. His overt masculinity made her feel deliciously feminine. She felt his mouth release hers, and his lips brushed a gentle kiss on her eyelids. She let out a shuddering breath. “It seems opposites have a fatal attraction.” “Nay,” he murmured against her temple. “This is like calling to like.” Douglas immediately acknowledged the truth of his words. Greystoke stripped off his leather breeches and flung them after his wet shirt. He settled her arms about his neck once more, then his hands cupped her buttocks and he lifted her onto his cock. He bent his head to claim her mouth, and she raised her lips to meet his, eager for the ravishing. His shaft lay in the valley between her legs. With their bodies entwined he carried her across the chamber and deposited her on the wide bed. He stared down at her, drinking in her glorious, wild beauty. “I’ve imagined these fiery curls between your legs since I first saw you atop the stone wall.” Douglas boldly reached out to touch the curls that covered his groin. “Black and red, a dangerous combination.” “Danger excites you.” His voice was deep and dark, like black velvet. “You excite me,” she purred.

“Only because I’m dangerous, Firebrand.” She licked her lips in sensual invitation. “If you play with fire, you’ll burn your fingers.” She arched her mons and felt a shudder of desire when he threaded his fingers into her red curls. Greystoke expected her to bargain with him, offering her body in exchange for her brothers’ release. Douglas had too much pride to ask. She would give freely and hoped he’d do the same. He came down to kneel beside her on the bed, and spread her vivid hair across the pillow. His instincts told him that this was her first time, in spite of her generous response to him. Greystoke knew that in order to give her pleasure rather than pain, he must arouse her fully, lure her to cast aside her inhibitions, and revel in her own sexuality. He picked up her foot and dropped a kiss on each toe, then he slid his tongue along the high arch of her instep. His calloused hands stroked up the creamy skin of her leg, then he bent his head to kiss and lick the delicate flesh of her thigh. When his mouth arrived at the tendrils on her mons, he pursed his lips and blew on the curls, making them dance about in playful abandon. Then he picked up her other foot and repeated the foreplay. “You make me feel beautiful and desirable,” she said breathlessly. “Douglas Elliot, you are so luscious, I could devour you.” He gently bit her toes. It was a new experience for her to be treated as if she were special. She had a healthy sense of self-worth, but in her family’s pecking order, she came after her brothers. Greystoke looked at her and touched her as if she were precious, and it felt blissful. He stroked her belly and caressed her breasts, first kissing, then tonguing her nipples. He felt himself harden and lengthen, and when he saw she was avidly watching his body’s reaction, his cock bucked wildly. He straddled her thighs, and reached his fingers down to caress and stimulate her woman’s center. He slipped a finger into her hot sheath, playing until she became slick, then he brought her to climax and watched her eyes widen in surprise. He cupped her mons and she cried out at the exquisite sensations he aroused. Douglas thought fleetingly of Alex Hume who had pursued her at the Queen’s Court, and it made her shudder. When she compared the young fop to Lance Greystoke, she was suddenly thanking the Fates who had brought her to the English nobleman’s bed. Here was a man worthy of her virginity. She banished her apprehension, and her lips curved in an inviting smile. Lance came over her and took possession of her luscious mouth. He gave her a hundred kisses, arousing her passion, then he whispered how much he desired her, and what he was going to do to her. He positioned his cock. “Open to me, Douglas,” he urged. She arched against him and he slid slowly into her tight sheath. She could not take the whole length of him, but he was overjoyed with her generous response to him. As he thrust in and out, she writhed and cried out with pleasure. He did not prolong it, for fear of hurting her. He spent quickly, then gathered her in his arms, and buried his face in her glorious hair.

CHAPTER FIVE “Little Firebrand.” Douglas was lying in such a delicious, warm cocoon, she didn’t want to awaken. She opened her eyes and saw that she was lying in Greystoke’s arms. She stretched languidly, and her bed partner sat up. “It’s dawn. I hate to leave you sweetheart, but I have to return to Carlisle Castle. I don’t want anyone to know I left last night.” He dropped a kiss on her vivid curls and threw back the covers. She gave him a tremulous smile and drew the covers up to her chin. “You can spend the day in my library, reading to your heart’s content. When I return tonight, I’ll take you home to Castle Elliot.” He tenderly brushed back the tendrils from her forehead. “You must know I’m reluctant to part with you, but Beaumont Hall is too close to Carlisle Castle for your safety.” Douglas watched him dress, then he kissed her goodbye, and departed. The minute Greystoke left, a picture of Gavin and Rob rose up in her mind. “Poor Robbie, I hope they don’t hurt you.” She felt bereft that Greystoke hadn’t offered to release her brothers. She thought it was the least he could have done in return for the loving they’d shared. Gavin is a man, but Rob is just a boy. Douglas was racked with worry. She flung off the covers, and used last night’s bathwater to wash herself. Then she put on the linen shirt Lance had offered her, and drew on her leather breeches and boots. She made her plans swiftly, picked up her leather doublet and went downstairs. The servant she had seen the night before bade her good morning. “Lord Greystoke asked me to prepare breakfast for you, my lady. Would you like me to serve it in the library?” Douglas gave him a disarming smile “That would be very kind of you.” When she entered the library, she gazed at all the books, but the large polished desk drew her like a magnet. She ran her fingers over the intricate vine leaves that decorated the mirrored pendant, and saw her reflection. Her hair was a dishevelled mass of red curls, and she immediately tried to smooth it, then plaited it. Her hairpins lay scattered somewhere in his bedchamber, and she knew she wouldn’t go back up to retrieve them. She glanced guiltily at the window she had smashed and saw it had already been repaired with a new pane of glass. She also noticed a map of the Borders lying on the desk, and she studied it intently, tracing her finger along the route she intended to take, and committing it to memory. When the servant entered the library with a breakfast tray, she crossed the room and took it from him. “It smells good. Thank you so much.” She was glad he had included a mug of ale and wondered if Greystoke had ordered it for her. “Is there anything else I can get you, my lady.” “No, this is perfect. Thank you.” When he left, she took it to the desk, sat down in a chair, and devoured the food as quickly as she could. She drank the ale and wiped her mouth with the back of her hand. Then she picked up the priceless mirrored pendant, fastened it securely to her linen shirt, lifted its silver chain over her head, then donned her leather doublet. Douglas went to the library window, unlocked it, raised the sash, and climbed out. She silently lowered the window, and headed toward the stables. Last night she had seen that Greystoke’s prize thoroughbreds were safely in their stalls, and she knew they would still be there. But with any luck some of his less valuable horses would be out in the pasture behind the stables. As unobtrusively as possible, she made her way to the field, and heaved a sigh of relief when she saw three or four horses cropping the spring grass. There was a small mare close to a barred gate in the stone wall. As she moved around the wall it blocked anyone from seeing her. The difficult part would be opening the gate and getting the animal through it.

It had a bridle, but no bit or saddle of course, and she was glad she knew how to ride bareback. She moved quickly, opening the gate halfway, and leading the horse through it. She grabbed its mane and mounted with all the speed she could muster, and trotted away. When she was a short distance from the Beaumont stables, she urged the mare into a gallop, and did not look back. If anyone had seen her, she was determined that they would never catch her. Instead of riding north to the Scottish Border, Douglas headed west. Her cousin Will had said her brother Jock was accompanying King James to Berwick, and she knew she must get word to Jock that Gavin and Rob were prisoners in Carlisle Castle. “They’ve likely left Berwick by now,” she told the mare. “Where will their next stop be?” In her mind Douglas went over the castles in the English Borders of Northumberland. “Of course! The Earl of Northumberland will want to ingratiate himself with his new king and will offer hospitality at his castle of Alnwick.” Hellfire, that must be more than fifty miles away. Douglas rode on determinedly until the pale spring sun was directly overhead and she decided it must be close to the hour of noon. When she came to the next stream, she dismounted and allowed her mare to drink. She quenched her own thirst, and splashed her face with the cool water. She had no idea how far she had come, nor how far she still had to travel, so she remounted and pressed on with dogged determination. After she had ridden an hour or so through the rolling hills and dales she heard the distinctive sound of horses, and wagons. This told her there must be a road nearby. Then she heard voices and laughter. She drew rein and waited for the travelers. Her hand went to her hair. I must look a fright, wearing breeches and riding bareback. As soon as the traveling party came into view she waved and gave them a friendly smile. There were two men and two women who were mounted; the others who were obviously their servants rode in a baggage wagon. They all gave her curious stares, then one of the men said, “You must be going to Hexham.” “Hexham?” she echoed. The lady who was his wife explained, “Langley Castle. We are going to welcome our new King. We are at the head of the cavalcade. There must be scores behind us.” Douglas remembered that Langley was another castle owned by the Earl of Northumberland. “Yes, that’s where I’m going. Do you mind if I ride with you?” In less than an hour, the four towers of Langley Castle came into view. When they rode into the bailey it was packed with carts and wagons. Douglas lost no time dismounting and leading her mare to the stables. Obviously there were already people here, and crowds more were on their way. She threw a stableman a ravishing smile. “I know you are expecting King James. My brother is one of his attendants. May I put my mare in the stable?” He grinned at her. “All these stalls are reserved for the royal party, but there’s plenty of room in the pasture.” Her smile widened. “You are a gentleman, sir. Could I have a few oats? She’s had a hard ride today.” “Leave her with me. I’ll feed her and put her out back.” Douglas tried to slip into the Great Hall of Langley Castle without being noticed, but the first servant she encountered bowed to her. “My lady.” When it happened a second time, she thought they were mistaking her for someone, and wondered if she should admit she needed help. Then she remembered that the Percy family had red hair. The servants must think I’m related to the Earl of Northumberland. Perhaps I can use the knowledge to my advantage. This calls for a magnificent lie. Perhaps the English will swallow lies a hell of a lot faster than the truth. Douglas climbed one of the square towers and found a serving woman who was making beds with fresh linen. “Excuse me, but I need your help. I just rode in from Alnwick Castle and my baggage

has gone amiss. Uncle Percy will be furious if he finds me wearing breeches when King James arrives.” The woman looked her up and down. “I can understand that, mistress.” “I’m sure my aunt keeps some of her clothes here. Perhaps I can borrow something?” “Bless your heart, my dear, Lady Dorothy visited Langley only twice. Her ladyship prefers London to the wilds of Northumberland. It’s been more than a year since she was here last. The castle steward has allocated her chamber for Queen Anne’s use when she arrives.” “Oh, the queen isn’t traveling with King James. He is so eager for the Crown of England that he is riding with all speed. I heard that Queen Anne, her children, and her ladies won’t be leaving Edinburgh for at least a month.” “You must have seen him at Alnwick. Whatever is King James like?” “Well, he’s no fashion plate.” Douglas pictured the king in his shabby robes when she’d last been at Court. “His hair and beard are reddish like the Percy’s, but his Scottish brogue is so thick, it is difficult for the English to understand him.” “Ooh, fancy that!” the woman said laughing. “Since Queen Anne won’t be coming, I’ll accompany you up to your Aunt Dorothy’s chamber. If memory serves, I think she did leave some garments in the wardrobe.” As they climbed to the top of the tower, the woman asked, “When do you think your uncle and the king’s party will be arriving?” In fact Douglas hadn’t the faintest idea. “Not until tomorrow at the very earliest, I warrant. I mustn’t take up any more of your time. My uncle is blessed to have someone like you at Langley. I shall be sure to mention how helpful you have been.” The servant bobbed her a curtsey, visibly pleased at the compliment. Douglas glanced about the tower chamber. It had clearly been furnished for a lady. The first thing her eyes fell on was a hairbrush sitting atop a tall chest. She immediately slid open one of the chest’s drawers. When she saw the linen undergarments she sent up a silent prayer of thanks. As she lifted out a shift, petticoat, and hose, the scent of roses perfumed the air. She crossed the room to the wardrobe. A silver mirror had been mounted on the door and when she saw her reflection she was aghast. No wonder the servant looked me up and down with dismay. She crossed her fingers and opened the wardrobe door. Oh, I have the luck of the devil! She lifted out a blue damask gown and laid it on the bed. On the floor of the wardrobe she found a pair of matching slippers. She removed her doublet, then with careful fingers she lifted the silver chain from around her neck and unpinned the antique pendant from Greystoke’s shirt. When she took off the shirt, his male scent stole to her, and sent a spiral of desire curling through her belly. She forced herself to stop thinking of him, folded her clothes and put them in the wardrobe. Douglas unbraided her hair and brushed it until it crackled, then she donned the undergarments and crossed her fingers as she unlaced the gown and stepped into it. The damask dress was not a perfect fit. There was no farthingale, but the skirt was very full. It came only to her ankles but as she tightened the laces on the front of the bodice, she had to take a deep breath before she could close it completely. Percy’s wife must be exceedingly slim. When she looked in the mirror she saw that her breasts swelled provocatively above the low-cut neckline. Well, at least no one will notice my ankles! When she could drag her eyes from her own exposed flesh, she noticed that the right side of the bodice had been embroidered with a silver initial. Her mouth curved with delight when she saw the letter D. How appropriate, the D for Dorothy now becomes a D for Douglas. She picked up the lovely pendant, and saw the image of Greystoke in its mirrored depths. D for Deception! She heard his voice as clearly as if he were in the room with her. Douglas slipped the silver chain around her neck and pinned the jeweled mirror between her breasts. She raised her chin defiantly and shrugged a pretty shoulder.

~~~ It was barely dusk when Greystoke arrived home from Carlisle Castle. The anticipation of seeing Douglas spurred him to cover the four miles to Beaumont in record time. He had even fed and watered his horse before he left Carlisle so that when he reached home, he could simply stable his mount and go straight to the house. He hadn’t felt this way about a woman in years. The beautiful Firebrand heated his blood and made him feel alive. He couldn’t wait to see her golden eyes light with pleasure when he entered the hall. Greystoke had pictured her before the fire, her mass of molten hair reflecting its flames. When he saw that the Great Hall was empty, his heart skipped a beat. Then a smile curved his mouth. She’s in the library. His footsteps quickened and he heard the ring of his spurs as he entered the book-lined room. He glanced about. “Douglas?” His heartbeat faltered when he found the chamber empty, then he heard a noise behind him and turned eagerly to the doorway. When he saw it was his servant, Ridley, he asked, “Where is she?” “The lady has gone, my lord.” “Gone?” Greystoke held his breath. “Gone where?” “I’m afraid I don’t know.” “When did she leave?” he demanded. “I have no idea, my lord. I served her breakfast here in the library, but when I returned with lunch, the room was empty. It was as if she had disappeared.” “She didn’t vanish into thin air, man!” Greystoke felt his anger ignite and he knew he was in danger of savaging Ridley. With an effort he held his temper. “Thank you.” When Ridley withdrew, a foul oath dropped from his lips. “Goddam the wench!” It was a severe blow to his pride that Douglas Elliot was not at Beaumont awaiting his return. The bloody little Firebrand took off the moment my back was turned. It not only stung him that he was a poor judge of character, it was also a cudgel blow to his manhood. He strode to the window and gazed out with unseeing eyes, as a feeling of impotence gripped him. He noticed that the lock was unfastened and realized that this was how she had made her escape unseen. The little bitch is laughing at me. “Put not your trust in a Scot!” It was a maxim all English Borderers lived by, and that went double for a warden, or should have. He was filled with fury that Douglas Elliot had made a fool of him. I laid my heart at her feet, and she stomped on it. He turned from the window, walked slowly to his desk, sat down, and smashed his fist into the polished oak surface. That was when he saw that the priceless antique pendant was missing. “The thieving little bitch! She coveted that pendant from the moment she saw it; damn her avaricious eyes!” Douglas Elliot had touched Greystoke’s heart, but now his feelings for her hardened. She is a thief and she belongs in prison. He vowed to track her down. She ran away, so I will stalk her as prey. With cold deliberation he swore he would take his revenge.

CHAPTER SIX “His Majesty King James has arrived!” the Langley Castle steward announced to everyone gathered in the Great Hall. A collective gasp went around the large chamber, and people started to scurry about, positioning themselves advantageously for when King James entered the castle. Douglas Elliot’s heart began to pound. She was truly surprised that the king had arrived less than an hour after she had changed from her leather attire into the elegant gown. She sent up a prayer of thanks that not only had she chosen to ride to Langley, but that her timing had been perfect. Please, please, let my brother Jock be here. She hurried out to the castle bailey, where she found an amazing throng of horses, attendants, and moss-troopers. With her heart in her mouth, Douglas searched among the riders until she saw her cousin Will Elliot, her brother’s lieutenant. “Where’s Jock?” she shouted. “He’s stabling the king’s mount.” He stared in amazement at Jock’s beautiful young sister. “It’s unsafe for ye to be out here with all these men.” He dismounted. “I’ll escort ye to him.” He handed his reins to a Graham moss-trooper. “Stand back, and give His Majesty room to move!” a deep male voice ordered. Douglas stared at a group of men crowding together, and saw a burly red-headed man who was doing his best to make way for King James to enter Langley Castle. That must be Henry Percy, Earl of Northumberland. I’d best give my dearest uncle a wide berth! She slipped her hand into Will’s and tried to keep up with him as he strode into the stables. Every stall now had a horse in it, but a large box stall had been reserved for the king’s royal mount. She saw her brother Jock giving it a rub down. Jock Elliot almost dropped the brush when he saw his sister. “Douglas, I didn’t expect to see ye in England. What are ye doing at Langley Castle?” “I was on my way to Alnwick to find you, Jock. It was just luck that I found out you were coming to Langley.” She took a deep breath before she plunged into her tale. Suddenly, she was strangely loathe to blame her family’s trouble on Lancelot Greystoke. “The Earl of Cumberland’s men came to Castle Elliot and arrested Gavin and Rob for stealing horses. They are imprisoned in Carlisle Castle. You must do something, Jock. I fear they may be hanged!” “They didn’t find stolen horses at our castle, surely?” “Of course not!” Douglas was indignant. “Thoroughbred horses were found at Langholm, and Sim Armstrong told Cumberland’s men that he bought them from the Elliot brothers. They had arrest warrants not only for Gavin and Rob, they had one for you too.” “Me? Didn’t Gavin tell them I was with the king?” “Of course, but the English devils didn’t believe him. They searched the castle for you. They had an arrest warrant for Douglas Elliot too, and when I told them I was Douglas, they didn’t believe me. It made no difference—they arrested all three of us.” “Arrested you? The callous English bastards! Gavin and Rob are still imprisoned in Carlisle Castle? How the devil did you manage to escape?” “I...I had help. After dark, Sir Lance Greystoke led me to a back door of the castle and set me free. I warrant he was acting chivalrously toward a woman.” “Carlisle Castle is the next stop on the king’s journey south. I’ll have a word with His Majesty about our brothers being falsely accused and arrested. Once we get to Carlisle, I’ll see to their release. King James doesn’t have much use for the Earl of Cumberland. George Clifford spent his time kissing Queen Elizabeth’s arse, instead of taking care of his estates in the English Borders.” Jock closed the box stall door securely. “Stay beside me while I gather up my men. If we don’t go inside soon, we won’t get fed.” He winked at Douglas. “Henry Percy is sparing no expense to

entertain King James and his entourage. Ye’ve no idea how pleasurable it is to enjoy English hospitality.” Douglas glanced down at her fine gown. “Yes, I believe I have a very good idea.” ~~~ The following day was taken up with people being presented to King James. Not only were the English who lived in the Borders flocking to meet him, but the Scots who could afford to accompany the king to London were arriving at Langley Castle every hour. “Jock, I’m grievously worried about Gavin and Rob. Do you think you can persuade the king to set out for Carlisle tomorrow?” Douglas asked. “Why don’t I present ye to him and ye can have a try at persuading him yerself? No doubt he’ll remember when he met ye at Edinburgh Castle last year.” “I warrant he’s not the type of man who succumbs easily to feminine wiles, Jock.” “Don’t underestimate yer assets, sweetheart. He’d have to be a corpse not to appreciate yer half-exposed breasts.” Douglas heard the disapproval in his voice. “The gown is borrowed. I cannot help that it is too tight. Beggars can’t be choosers.” “Come on. We’ll have to get in line behind these English arse-kissers.” There was hardly room to move in the throng gathered to meet the new sovereign. Jock struck up a conversation with the people in front of him, while Douglas schooled herself to patience All at once she felt a hand caress her bottom. She whirled about ready to strike the offending male, and stared into the facetious face of Alexander Hume. “Do not presume to take liberties with me, sir. Your familiarity breeds only my contempt.” Bugger and balls, I should have known the king would be taking his Treasurer to London. Alex Hume grinned. “Perhaps you’ll have to be more generous with your favors, my lady, now that you’ll have fierce competition from the English lassies.” “I welcome their competition. I might even let them win the prize, or take the cake if it is not to my taste.” “You play a high stakes game, Douglas—luring a man on by holding him off.” “I don’t remember giving you leave to use my given name, my lord.” Hume bent close and whispered, “I would be most happy to call you mistress.” Douglas turned her back on him, and saw that it was her turn to make her curtsy to the king. Jock led her forward and she sank low before James like a supplicant and gave him a poignant smile. “Och, I’d ken this lassie anywhere,” the king said, staring overlong at her décolletage. “Your Gracious Majesty, I have two brothers imprisoned in Carlisle Castle, falsely accused of theft by George Clifford, Earl of Cumberland.” “Clifford has allus bin an avaricious swine, wi’ his eye on the best Scots’ Borderland. It dinna surprise me he’s stoopin’ tae false accusations tae get his hands on a piece o’ it.” He raised Douglas and patted her hand. “Ye’ll accompany us tae Carlisle, an’ I’ll decide who’s guilty and who’s innocent.” Dear God, I can’t return to Carlisle! “I think it would be safer for me to go home to Castle Elliot, Your Gracious Majesty.” The king laughed. “Wheest, lassie, ye’ll be safe wi’ Jamie. Ha’ no fear.” “Thank you, Sire,” she murmured, and fear of returning to Carlisle rose up in her. As she moved away quickly, Alex Hume caught up with her. “If you want something from the king, there is no man breathing who has more influence than my brother. King James never fails to take his Treasurer’s advice.” Douglas almost cursed him for eavesdropping, but shrewdly thought better of it. If Hume could influence the king to pardon her brothers, he could also influence him to condemn them. “It would be very kind of you to use your influence, Alex.”

~~~ Douglas slept in a small chamber with the two English ladies she’d met on the road to Langley. Their husbands had been assigned to a dormitory chamber reserved for men. On the morning they were all moving on to Carlisle Castle, Douglas donned her leather riding clothes. She carefully folded the blue brocade gown and an extra set of undergarments, and put them into a bolster case. She arrived at the stables early to retrieve Greystoke’s mare from the meadow that now held over fifty horses. She put the problem of finding a saddle in the capable hands of her cousin Will and by the time the king’s cavalcade was ready to depart Langley, she had her garments and the exquisite antique pendant tucked safely into her newly acquired saddlebags. It’s only about thirty miles to Carlisle, but I warrant it will take most of the day to get there. Though Douglas dreaded encountering Lance Greystoke, and would have much preferred going home to Castle Elliot, she knew in her heart that she would do anything she could to get her brothers released. If fortune favors us, I can ride home with Gavin and Rob. The closer she got to Carlisle, the more she thought about Lancelot Greystoke. She had been in utter despair until he had freed her. That night there was an unspoken bond between us. Then I betrayed that bond. Douglas told herself that she had justification. I gave myself to him freely, hoping that in return he would offer to free my brothers. She bent forward and patted the lovely mare’s neck. “I promise to give you back,” she whispered. Though Langley had four great towers, it was small compared with the massive fortalice known as Carlisle Castle. Within its walls were many separate buildings and Douglas vowed to avoid an encounter with Greystoke if it were possible. The king’s entourage clattered through the high covered arch of the main gateway into the outer bailey. Douglas rode with her brother’s moss-troopers and in her leather breeches and jack, she blended in well. At a slower pace, they passed beneath the internal gatehouse with its L-shaped barbican and entered the inner bailey that led to the massive three-story keep. “Welcome to Carlisle, Your Gracious Majesty. I am honored to present you with the keys to the castle, as well as the ceremonial key to the City of Carlisle.” Sir Thomas Scrope, the Governor of Carlisle bowed low before King James. “Our castle and our city are yours to command, Sire.” The king was well-pleased with Thomas Scrope who had carried on a secret correspondence with him for the last year of Queen Elizabeth of England’s life. “We thank ye fer yer hospitality, Lord Scrope.” ~~~ It was evening before Douglas was assigned a chamber with other ladies, and she quickly washed and changed into her brocade gown so she could meet Jock, who had insisted on escorting her to the dining hall. She pinned the mirrored pendant inside her gown for safekeeping, brushed the tangles from her hair, and waited for her brother. Douglas was thankful that she sat between Jock and Will Elliot at the long, overcrowded trestle table. They were able to grab food from the great platters, which were emptied the moment the servers set them down. Her eyes searched the crowded hall for Lance Greystoke. One glimpse of his dark countenance and I shall flee from the hall. With her attention focused on looking for Greystoke, she did not notice Alex Hume watching her like a hungry predator. When she finished eating, she told her brother she was going up to bed. Jock reached into his pocket and handed Douglas a couple of gold crowns. “I saw at least a dozen Carlisle merchants arrive earlier. They are setting up their wares in a chamber off the Great Hall. I think it’s time you had another dress.” Her eyes widened with pleasure. “Oh, Jock, thank you. You are the best brother in the world. Whatever would I do without you?”

Douglas spent the next hour selecting a gown from the array of feminine attire the merchants had on display. They had brought the latest fashions, knowing both the Scots and the English who planned to follow the king to London would spare no expense on their wardrobes. She finally chose a pale green velvet gown with detachable sleeves. She also bought another pair of sleeves embroidered with pink English roses and silver Scots thistles that she could not resist. Douglas carried her treasures up to the chamber she was sharing. When she opened the door she suddenly found herself propelled into the room from behind. She swung about to find Alex Hume leering at her. “What the devil are you playing at? Please leave; I am sharing this chamber with four other ladies.” “None of whom will be retiring this early. We’ll have plenty of time for dalliance.” “I am not the least bit interested, Alex. I want you to leave at once.” “You’ve led me a merry chase, Douglas. I tried to woo you when you were at Court in Edinburgh, but all you did was cocktease and say no.” “I did no such thing, sir! You are the reason I left the Queen’s Court in Edinburgh.” Hume grabbed her and brought his mouth down on hers. He held her imprisoned against him. “You play a high-stakes game, Douglas, holding out for marriage with a Hume.” He squeezed her bottom. “If I can’t have you any other way, I warrant I’ll have to offer for you. How about a foretaste? If you are generous, I will help get your brothers released.” His hand slipped into her décolletage and cupped her bare breast. Douglas raked her nails down his cheek. “Take your lecherous hands from me, pig!” Two of the ladies who were sharing the chamber with her entered. They saw the couple struggling, and stared at the man’s bloody cheek. Alex Hume stepped back from Douglas, but before he left his eyes narrowed with thwarted anger. “Since you are a ward of the Crown, I shall speak with the king.” Hume added another threat. “One word from my family could get your brothers hanged if you don’t change your tune.” Douglas blushed as she explained to the ladies, “His attentions are unwanted. I thank you for saving me.” She hung up her new gown in the large wardrobe. Alex Hume had taken the joy out of her purchase with his threat to her brothers’ safety. He may look like an effete popinjay, but he is deadly dangerous. I must tell Jock what he is threatening. But Douglas was loathe to leave the safety of the chamber tonight. She removed the blue brocade gown and hung it beside the new one. I’ll tell him first thing in the morning.

CHAPTER SEVEN Douglas was glad she awoke at first light. She had been having a nightmare that King James had consented to her marriage with his Treasurer’s brother, and Alex Hume had come to claim her. In the dream she had not dared to refuse him because her brothers’ lives hung in the balance. She had been trapped with no way out, and as she donned the pale green velvet, and brushed her hair, she sent up a prayer for divine intervention. She hurried down to the dining hall, assuming she would find Jock at breakfast. “Will, I must speak with my brother, has he eaten yet?” “Ye just missed him. The king and the Border Wardens are holding Court in the Great Hall. Today and tomorrow the Carlisle prisoners will be tried and sentences pronounced.” “Dear God, I hope Jock gets Gavin and Rob released before they go on trial.” Will made room for her at the table. “Sit down and eat. It’ll be a long day.” “I couldn’t eat a thing. My stomach is knotted with worry.” Douglas hurried in the direction of the Great Hall. Suddenly, to her horror she saw Sir Lancelot Greystoke striding toward her. The thunderous black look on his face, made her step back in alarm. “Douglas Elliot, you are a thief and a liar.” His accusing eyes swept her from head to foot. In the pale green velvet, her fiery hair looked like flames, and her exquisite beauty infuriated him. “You are a manipulative little bitch, who deserves to be locked up with your thieving brothers. You are damned lucky I am late to Court, but rest assured that when today’s trial is finished, I shall find you, and lay charges against you.” She was trembling as Greystoke strode off, his spurs striking sparks on the flagstone floors. The antique mirrored pendant pinned inside her gown felt as if it were burning a hole in her flesh. She wanted to flee to the safety of the bedchamber, but the thought of being cooped up all day in the small room, worrying over her brothers’ fate, and now her own, was unbearable to Douglas. She hurried back to where she had left Will, but when she saw that he was no longer sitting at the trestle table, she felt faint. To give her courage, she drank a mug of small ale, and took an oatcake from a huge platter. It seemed as if the walls were closing in on her, and she found it so difficult to take a deep breath that she felt as if she were suffocating. I must get some fresh air! She found the massive oak doors to the keep and went outside. She was stunned to see that the sun was shining and she could smell the sweet green grass from the outer bailey. The red sandstone castle was such a formidable stronghold, the rays of the sun never penetrated its seven-foot thick walls. Douglas hurried to the outer bailey and walked through the sweet spring grass. She nibbled on the oat cake and it seemed to settle her stomach. On impulse she departed through the main gate and when she found herself outside the castle walls, an overwhelming desire to flee came over her. The April weather was lovely and she longed to be riding through the incomparable beauty of the hills and dales of the Borders. I cannot leave my brothers behind. I must find a way to help them. She looked up and saw the spire of Carlisle Cathedral. She picked up her velvet skirts and hurried toward the medieval church that had been built in the twelfth century. It was rather small, as cathedrals went, but inside there was much to look at and occupy the senses. She gazed up at the barrelvaulted ceiling, amazed at the skill of the craftsmen who had created such a magnificent building. The stained glass window was larger and more vivid than any she had ever seen before. There were images of the twelve apostles, and she stopped before each one and said a prayer for her brothers. Finally she sat down on a hinged seat, known as a misericorde, and gave herself up to a higher power. God helps him who helps himself. The words came to her as clearly as if someone spoke them aloud. Douglas searched inside herself for an answer to her family’s dilemma.

A solution did not come, but she vowed before God and his Apostles that she would be willing to do anything to gain her brothers’ freedom. ~~~ In the late afternoon, Douglas made her way back to the castle with reluctant steps. If sentence had been passed on her brothers she was reluctant to hear it, but she knew she had no choice. By the number of men streaming from the Great Hall, she knew today’s Court must be over. She saw Jock and hurried to his side. Jock looked down at her and shook his head. “They weren’t brought before the Court today, so it will likely be tomorrow.” He saw the relief in her eyes. “I had a chance to talk with Gavin and Rob at dawn today. The young fools told me they ignored my warning about reiving. You deceived me, Douglas. You led me to believe they were falsely accused and arrested.” “They didn’t find Greystoke’s thoroughbreds at Castle Elliot!” she cried. “Nevertheless, they were the ones who lifted the horses. Tomorrow, Greystoke will be in Court, and when he brings the charges, it will be up to the king to decide their guilt or innocence. I shall have little say in the matter.” Tears flooded her eyes, as guilt washed over her. “I’m so sorry, Jock. Will you escort me upstairs to my chamber? I don’t feel safe walking alone.” “Come on, my wee lass. Why don’t you have a lie down? Yer pale as a ghost.” Douglas did lie on her bed, but she was far too restless to stay there for long. She got up and began to pace, as her thoughts chased themselves in ever-defeating circles. I’ll go to Alex Hume and beg him to ask his brother to have a word with the king. His Majesty will listen to his Treasurer and will mayhap take his advice. She tried to push aside the price she would have to pay. In the cathedral I vowed I would do anything. I mustn’t be a coward. She took up the brush she had brought with her from Langley and began to brush her hair. She knew a female must look her best if she wanted a favor from a male. As she stroked the brush through her long tresses, a measure of calm descended. Douglas gathered her courage and formed a far different plan. She unpinned the priceless antique pendant from inside her gown, and wrapped it with care. Then she sought the castle chamberlain and asked him to direct her to the chamber of the man who held her brother’s fate in his hands. ~~~ Douglas knocked on the door and when it was opened she asked, “May I come in, my lord?” Lance Greystoke’s dark face looked as hard as granite. He stood immobile for a full minute before he opened the door wide and motioned for her to enter. He did not offer her a seat, but loomed above her, waiting for her to speak. Douglas licked dry lips, and cleared her throat. “I am the one to blame. The day we met, I was deliberately looking for Beaumont Hall. When I saw your thoroughbreds, I coveted them, and when I got back to Castle Elliot I told my brothers about them and urged them to ride into England and steal them.” Greystoke remained silent, his dark face a mask of contempt. Douglas swallowed the lump in her throat and continued. “My brother Jock, who was in Edinburgh with the king, sent his lieutenant home to tell us that the Queen of England had died, and that King James was now King of England as well as Scotland. He warned us that the king was determined to make it all one country, and we were to bury the quarrels between England and Scotland. “But all the Scots Borderers thought it a God-sent opportunity to pay the English back for all the raids they’d carried out in Scotland. The Johnstons and the Maxwells, and every other Border family planned to ride into England. I told my brothers they should ride to Beaumont and get their hands on your thoroughbreds. “They didn’t know it, but I too went on the raid that night. I planned to steal the jeweled pendant that I saw on your desk. I smashed your library window and was about to climb in, when I

realized that if I took the priceless artefact, you would guess it was me, and you would realize it was the Elliots who had taken your thoroughbreds.” She glanced up at Greystoke’s face, but it was closed against her. Douglas swallowed the tears that gathered in her throat, and continued her confession. “When Cumberland’s men came and arrested us, my bravado deserted me. When they locked me in the storeroom here in Carlisle Castle, I was terrified for my brothers, and afraid for myself. When you rescued me, I realized you were as chivalrous as your namesake.” She raised her lashes and her eyes met his. “That night there was an unspoken bond between us. Then I betrayed that bond.” She lowered her lashes. “I am shamed.” She unwrapped the pendant and held it out to him. “This is yours, my lord.” Greystoke took it from her hands. “You also stole one of my mares.” She nodded. “She’s in the stables.” Douglas bit her lip, then continued, “If you would withdraw the charges against my brothers, it would save them from hanging.” “You come to me as a penitent, begging favors, thinking to manipulate me all over again. I am not such a bloody fool, Douglas Elliot. Do you truly think your beauty blinds me to your treachery?” His words pierced her like sharp arrows, because they were all true. Her heart spoke to her and she admitted that she had given herself to Greystoke because she had been deeply attracted to him and cared for him. She took a deep breath, raised her lashes and told him the truth. “With all my heart I wanted to stay with you, but that morning all I could think of was finding my brother Jock to let him know that Gavin and Rob were prisoners.” “There was one other thing you thought of.” He held up the mirrored pendant. Douglas stiffened. She had humbled her pride and thrown herself on his mercy to no avail. She raised her chin, and shrugged a shapely shoulder. “Forgive me for taking up your valuable time, Sir Lancelot.” ~~~ Douglas lay on her bed with her arm thrown over her eyes. For hours she had tried to find the courage to seek out Alex Hume, but something inside her recoiled. In the late afternoon she was distracted from her dilemma by the sound of bagpipes. The skirling got louder and then she heard a commotion. She got off the bed and opened the chamber door to investigate. A castle steward, accompanied by two pipers, was making his way through every story of the massive keep, heralding that King James commanded everyone to assemble in the Great Hall. Her heart sank. The trials must be over and I warrant the king intends to make a royal proclamation. I’ll go down to the Great Hall and see if I can find Jock. I will need his strength to face hearing Gavin and Rob’s sentence. Douglas washed her tear-stained face and brushed her hair, then she made her way with many others down to Carlisle Castle’s Great Hall. The chamber was packed with people, and their collective voices made a loud cacophony that echoed about the high walls. It took her a long time to locate Jock, and when she finally saw him she pushed her way through the crowd toward him. When she reached him, she slipped her hand into his to give her strength. Then she saw Alex Hume standing a few yards away. When he saw her, his hand went to his face to touch the cheek where she had raked her nails. His smile was half leering and half promising revenge. A hush fell over the Great Hall as King James entered with his royal attendants and climbed onto the dais. He stood before the throng and raised his voice. “I ha’ the unifying task o’ uniting the two great countries o’ England and Scotland. I am determined that the old quarrels will be buried, and fro’ now on, I charge ye all tae keep the peace! I intend that these heretofore bloody Borders will be a fit place for decent folk tae live fro’ this day for’ard. By the king’s order ye are tae turn in yer arms. Any mon, be he English or Scot, who breaks the law, will be punished by exile or the gallows. I hae appointed a Border Commission to deal wi’ the

malefactors.” James hawked and spat to emphasize his royal decree. There was a low murmur of dissent, which he silenced by a fierce glare at those assembled. “As a royal gesture o’ goodweal, I hereby proclaim a general pardon fer the unlawful activities an’ atrocities committed during ‘ill week’. All those imprisoned in Carlisle’s dungeons are tae be released!” A deafening cheer went up from the crowd and lasted a full ten minutes. Douglas looked up at Jock with a joyous look of disbelief. “Will Gavin and Rob be pardoned?” Jock nodded and grinned down at her, overjoyed that James was showing mercy. The king held up his arms for silence, and the crowd gradually complied, eager to hear what else their monarch had to say. “There is no finer way tae cement our two countries than by marriage. I ha’ been asked fer the hand o’ one o’ ma wards, and I ha’ given ma royal consent tae the match!” Suddenly, Douglas went cold. Her glance flew to Alex Home, as her heart plummeted. My nightmare is coming true! The swine carried out his threat. He asked the king to consent to our marriage. “I ask that Lady Douglas Elliot come tae the dais.” She clutched her brother’s hand, as the roar in her ears deafened her, and she felt as if she would faint. An excited cry went up from the crowd: “Douglas! Douglas! Douglas!” Jock loosed her hand and urged her toward the king. Her legs were trembling so badly, she would not have been able to arrive at the dais if the laughing crowd had not propelled her forward. King James himself, took her hand and helped her up the steps. I will die before I marry Alex Hume! Douglas opened her mouth to protest to the king, but once again he held up his arms for silence. “I ask that Sir Lancelot Greystoke come tae the dais.” Douglass stared in disbelief as the English noble strode to the dais, and the crowd went wild. Lance Greystoke asked the king for my hand in marriage? Greystoke, bowed his head to the king, then murmured low to Douglas, “I knew His Majesty would consent to a marriage between us, because it symbolizes the union of our two countries. I don’t want to be your enemy, Firebrand, I want to be your husband, if you’ll have me.” Her heart lifted and she gave him a radiant smile. “What makes you think husbands and wives cannot be enemies, my lord?” King James overheard her and chortled. “The lassie has the right o’ it, ye ken.” Greystoke said gallantly, “Douglas, I’d rather have you for enemy, than any other woman for friend.” “Then my answer is yes, I will have you.” King James slapped Greystoke on the back. “We’ll ha’ the weddin’ tonicht. The Bishop o’ Carlisle will officiate. All here are invited tae the celebration. I predict this’ll be the first o’ many unions betwixt English an’ Scots.” ~~~ “Who giveth this woman to this man?” the bishop asked. “I do.” Jock Elliot placed his sister’s hand in that of her English groom. Douglas, wearing pale green velvet with its sleeves embroidered with English roses and Scottish thistles, looked into Lance’s eyes as he gave his solemn vows. “I, Lancelot Greystoke, take thee, Douglas Elliot, to my wedded wife, to have and to hold from this day forward, for better for worse, for richer for poorer, in sickness and in health, to love and to cherish, till death us do part, according to God’s holy ordinance, and thereto I plight thee my troth.” Douglas repeated the same vow, Lancelot placed a ring on her fourth finger, and the Bishop pronounced them, “Man and wife together.”

The bride and groom dined at the king’s table. So many toasts were offered to the newlywed couple, that most of the celebrants were legless with drink by midnight. Gavin murmured to Douglas, “Ye got the thoroughbreds after all, lass.” “Not without paying an exorbitant price,” she teased. Greystoke hid his amusement, as he took her hand and pulled her to her feet. “The time has come to pay the piper, Firebrand.” The couple ran from the hall. “Firebrand be damned. My name is Lady Greystoke.” Lance grinned as he swept her into his arms and carried her up the castle stairs “Aye, I swore I’d make a lady of you.” ~~~ Hours later, as she lay in his powerful arms, her heart overflowed with love. “I want to go home to Beaumont Hall tomorrow.” His lips brushed the fiery tendrils on her temple. “You’d rather live in the Borders than follow the king to London?” “A thousand times over.” He kissed her tenderly. “And that’s exactly why I love you.” He picked up the exquisite mirrored pendant from the bedside table and handed it to her. “Since you have a fascination for priceless objets d’art, I want you to have this.” Douglas blushed. “I should never have stolen it from you.” She gazed into its mirrored depths. “It belonged to your grandmother.” “No, it never did, sweetheart. Actually, you have more right to it than I do. I found it on the Scottish side of the Border, at the site of a ruined castle.” “You lied to me you wicked devil!” “Then that makes us even.” She shrugged a shapely shoulder. “But I don’t want us to be even. I want to be one up on you, Lance Greystoke.” He lifted her so that she straddled his hard body. “Your wish is my command, Firebrand.” THE END I hope you enjoyed my novella. It was originally published in the anthology Masters of Seduction with five other stories by wonderful authors. The anthology followed the history of the emerald mirror pendant from the medieval period to modern times. To read more about my books please visit my website at www.virginiahenley.com