“I won’t say anything, Jane, but when the dough begins to rise, they’ll know ye have a loaf in the oven. Perhaps Lord de Warenne will return soon. Baliol has been deposed and every noble across Scotland is scurrying to Edward Plantagenet to swear allegiance.”
“I am so relieved the fighting is finished. I prayed to the great goddesses every night to keep the Lynx safe.”
“Jane, the fighting is not finished. There will be a lull until the Scots regroup. There is a young leader who has already lifted his head and will rouse the Scots people to fight again.”
“No!” Jane cried. “I don’t want our people to be enemies.”
Keith laid a comforting hand on her shoulder, realizing he should not worry her in her delicate condition. “Jane, do not fear. Lord de Warenne will return and all will be well for a good while.”
When Edward Plantagenet arrived at Scone, he removed the Stone of Destiny on which every Celtic king had been crowned and sent it to Westminster Abbey in London. Back in Edinburgh he did likewise with the Holy Rood along with the Scottish regalia and official documentation. Edward Plantagenet wanted to drive home the fact that Scotland was now subordinate to England. He called a parliament at Berwick for the twenty-eighth day of August 1296 and ordered every landholder in Scotland to appear there to reaffirm his allegiance to England.
Robert Bruce planned to attend. He wanted signed and sealed documents that stated officially the Annandale lands were taken back from Comyn and returned to the Braces.
At Carlisle, Robert Brace’s mother decided not to go to Berwick. Her beloved husband, Robert Brace the elder, was ailing and she made the decision to take him back to their English estates in Essex before winter set in.
She gathered the ladies in her solar and explained her decision to them. “Will you return to England with us, Jory, Alicia?”
Jory spoke up immediately. “Oh no, Lady Bruce. Everyone who is anyone, either in England or Scotland, will be at Berwick at the end of the month. I wouldn’t miss it for the crown jewels! It took King Edward only five months to accomplish what he set out to do and there will be celebrations like we have seldom seen before.”
“Only five months?” Alicia Bolton said with asperity. “It felt like a lifetime!”
Young Elizabeth de Burgh entreated, “Oh, Lady Bruce, may I go with Lady Marjory to Berwick?”
“But, my dear, your father entrusted you to my care. The Earl of Ulster is a man I shouldn’t care to vex.”
“Oh, please, Lady Bruce? The fighting is over and I long to see my father again.” She dared not add that seeing Robert Bruce was an even greater longing in her breast.
Jory added her persuasion. “I shall take Elizabeth under my wing, Godmother, aye and appease Edward de Burgh if he cavils.”
“And what about Lynx de Warenne?” asked Lady Marjory Bruce with raised eyebrows. “He’s the one most likely to send you all packing.”
“Ah, that is where dearest Alicia comes in. She shall be our secret weapon,” Jory declared, carefully keeping sarcasm from her voice. “How could Lynx possibly resist her?”
Though Alicia liked to be flattered, it in no way lessened her anger toward Lynx. He had tricked her into accompanying him north then blithely ridden away without looking back over his shoulder. The faithless cur was off taking his pleasure wherever he found it, month after endless month, while she dried up at Carlisle. To pay him back she would have been unfaithful to him, but the problem was that the Bruce brothers had ignored her, refusing to poach on Lynx de Warenne’s property, then even they had gone north to their Scottish castles. Alicia damned Scotland and everyone in it!
In the months they had been separated, she didn’t believe for a moment that Lynx de Warenne had been faithful to her. Women everywhere followed him with their eyes, casting blatant invitations his way. She would tolerate his making an occasional visit to a whore, but if any other had dared to set her sights on him, Alicia decided she would take a terrible revenge. Any such female would wish she were dead, rather than tangle with her!
13
Berwick Castle began to bulge at the seams from the horde of Scottish nobles pouring in with claims for their land. After the castle filled, the city of Berwick itself became clogged with wealthy men and women vying for elbowroom with the thieves, beggars, and whores.
Edward Plantagenet arrived at Berwick with days to spare, leaving his armies behind him to march south with all speed. John de Warenne accompanied the king, knowing that Percy, Clifford, Ulster, and the rest of his generals would see to their own men.
Lynx de Warenne set an easy pace for his bowmen; a two-hundred-mile trek on foot was no small undertaking. Fitz-Waren, on the other hand, spurred on his light cavalry, arriving in good time to secure rooms in Berwick Castle. Fitz hoped against hope that Jory de Warenne would show up, and if she did, he had a chamber next to his own to offer her.
The lust he felt toward Jory had grown since his fight with her brother, and if she came, he had made up his mind to fuck her. His beautiful cousin was a cock-teasing little bitch who begged for it, so this time he would give it to her. He stretched out on the bed in his chamber, imagining her beneath him. The corner of his mouth lifted; Jory would come, all right. She loved being on the front row of any important gathering.
When Jory arrived at Berwick Castle, her first order of business was locating Edward de Burgh, Earl of Ulster. Although Elizabeth adored her powerful father, she was still young enough to be terrified of his disapproval.
“Elizabeth, darling, do stop trembling; I’ll make sure his wrath does not descend upon you.”
“You don’t know him,” Elizabeth said faintly.
“He’s a man, that’s all I need to know,” Jory assured her with a wink.
Alice Bolton followed them into the bowels of the castle, hoping they would soon be rid of the fourteen-year-old.
Jory’s quick eyes soon picked out a man wearing Ulster’s badge on his sleeve who gave them directions to de Burgh’s chambers.
“What the devil are ye doing here?” he thundered, when his eyes fell upon the dark head of his daughter.
“She came with me, my lord earl,” Jory said, letting her hood fall back as she swept down into a curtsy deep enough to reveal the valley of her breasts to the man who ruled half of Ireland. Jory held out her hand and de Burgh gallantly raised her, kissing her fingers in the process. “Lady Marjory, is Lady Bruce here?”
“Alas, my lord, her husband’s health was such that she took him to England where the clime is kinder. She insisted that Elizabeth accompany her, but I could see the poor lady was already overburdened and so promised to take your lovely daughter under my own wing.”
De Burgh recalled Jory’s state of widowhood. “Thank ye, madam, that was most kind.”
“Not at all, my lord. Elizabeth is delightful company.” When she saw he was at a loss over what to do with his child, Jory offered, “I shall be happy to chaperon her here in Berwick, and her serving women never let her out of their sight.”
“Again, I thank ye. Fortunately, I have sufficient chambers for both of ye.”
Jory knew the earl’s squires and servants would be turfed out immediately, but took it as her due. She glanced questioningly at Alicia, who replied smugly, “Don’t worry about me, I’ll be sharing with Lynx.”
“Of course. Let us go and greet my worthy brother.”
After a long, futile search, Alice Bolton came to the furious conclusion that Lynx de Warenne was not in Berwick. She wanted to slap Jory in the face for dragging her all this way. She had been jostled and gaped at by men whose thick Scottish burr assaulted her ears and now wished heartily that she had accompanied Lady Bruce back to London. One uncouth lout who leered at her was actually wearing a bearskin whose odor made her gag. The sparkling amusement in Jory’s eyes made everything twice as bad. “He’ll pay for this,” Alicia said between clenched teeth.
“Hello, Coz, I never expected to see you here,” Fitz-Waren drawled as his gaze li
ngered on Jory’s breasts.
Her eyes narrowed. “Unfortunately, I cannot say the same for you, Fitz.”
“Hello, Roger, have you any idea where Lynx might be?” Alicia asked hopefully.
“I’m not his keeper. Were you counting on him to secure rooms for you? You surely must know by now his men come first.” His eyes were drawn back to Jory. “For the small price of a smile you may have this chamber next to mine.”
“The price is too high,” Jory said sweetly. “The Earl of Ulster has offered me his hospitality, but my friend here is in sore need. Smile at the man, Alicia.”
As the pair watched Marjory de Warenne depart, Alicia said, “I don’t know what ails her; one minute she is all smiles, the next, her tongue could clip tin.”
“I know what ails her; she needs a good bedding!” He stared after her, hating her, lusting for her, then hating himself for it.
Alicia giggled. “I never thought of that. Widowhood must be very trying.”
Suddenly, Fitz-Waren’s eyes filled with speculation as an unexpected opportunity presented itself to him. De Warenne’s mistress must also be suffering from nighttime starvation and Fitz-Waren decided that tupping his cousin’s strumpet would bring him a great deal of satisfaction.
Alicia’s sharp eyes saw the look and it gave her ideas of her own. The fact that he was Lynx’s cousin would make her revenge all the sweeter!
When Jory returned to the chambers where Ulster was housed, she found him conversing with Robert Bruce as young Elizabeth sat listening, entranced.
“Lady Marjory, do ye know the Bruce?” Ulster asked.
In the biblical sense, Jory thought wickedly, but with an impersonal smile, said, “Aye, my lord, he is a friend of my brother.”
“Is Lynx here?” Bruce inquired.
“I’m afraid he hasn’t yet arrived.”
“When he does, he can find me in the east tower,” Bruce said smoothly.
“I shall remember, my lord,” Jory promised. “Please excuse me, gentlemen, I must find our baggage before some knave makes off with it.”
Elizabeth reluctantly followed her from the room. “I wish you had asked Robert Bruce to dine with us,” she said dreamily. “Men can’t resist you, Jory. You even have my father eating out of your hand.”
“Then I hope you are taking notes,” Jory teased.
“Oh, I am,” young Elizabeth de Burgh replied earnestly.
It was after midnight before Jory unobtrusively slipped up to the east tower disguised as a page. Robert’s eyes brimmed with amusement as he twirled her about, viewing her from every angle. “Cock’s bones, you make a comely lad, but even a blind man wouldn’t be deceived.”
“And why not, pray tell?”
He pulled her toward him, caressing her breasts. “Because boys don’t have lovely titties, like these.” His hands moved lower. “Nor a round bum like this one.”
Jory lifted her mouth to his. “I missed you fiercely, you rogue, though I shouldn’t admit it.”
“And I, you, my love.” He pulled off her cap and lifted a handful of her pretty hair to his lips.
“Robert, I’ve been thinking about how we can be together for a while. Why don’t you invite Lynx to visit your great castle at Lochmaben?”
“You underestimate your brother’s intelligence.”
“Nay, I’m well aware I cannot manipulate him,” Jory sighed.
“You won’t need to,” Robert said with a grin. “He will be asking for lordship of Dumfries Castle, only eight miles from Lochmaben.”
Jory’s eyes widened. “I see your fine hand in this.” Then her eyes widened farther. “And feel your fine hand, too, you devil!”
“Feel this,” he invited wickedly.
Jory complied. She had a few demands of her own she couldn’t wait to issue.
“Cock’s bones, I never undressed a lad before. It has a hint of the forbidden about it,” he teased, stripping off the tight hose of a page boy.
She lifted her mouth to his. “I didn’t know what forbidden was until you took me in hand.” She teased him with her tongue. “Turnabout is fair play, Robert. Now I want to take you in hand … and mouth.”
“Do whatever you fancy, sweetheart,” he murmured huskily, lifting her and carrying her to the bed.
Jory came over him in the dominant position. “Tonight I intend to make love to you … at least the first time.” She took the greatest delight in removing the clothes from his powerful body, then her mouth began its hot, wet trail down his naked torso toward the goal she desired.
In Fitz-Waren’s chamber, Alice Bolton sipped the third cup of dry red wine he had poured for them. She rather liked the taste; it reminded her of vinegar. Her inhibitions were at low ebb as she allowed Fitz-Waren to make free with her slim body. She experienced a moment of power; Lynx wasn’t the only member of the de Warenne family she could attract.
She soon discovered that Roger was not the lover Lynx was. In fact, some of the things he demanded of her were demeaning, but her pleasure was not derived from the sex acts she performed; her pleasure came from the satisfaction of knowing she deceived Lynx with his own cousin. When Lynx arrived, Alicia knew she would forgive him for bringing her north and even for his neglect; what she could never forgive was his indifference.
The next morning Edward Plantagenet sat in the great hall of Berwick, receiving every landholder from Galloway to Caithness. William Ormsby, an English High Court justiciary, sat on the king’s right, while a dozen clerks recorded the names of those who had come forward to get their landholdings reconfirmed and pledge their allegiance to Edward. During the next month he would receive the submissions of over two thousand men, including all of the Scottish clergy. The list of names filled thirty-five skins of parchment, and the arrogant English nobles looking on dubbed it the “Ragman Roll.”
As Edward performed his kingly duties with great satisfaction, Lynx de Warenne and his squire Thomas shouldered their way up to the castle. Lynx couldn’t believe the crush of humanity that had squeezed into the Port of Berwick. Even the graveyards were packed, with tombstones serving as beds. He had no choice but to order his men to set up their tents in hayfields outside the city.
John de Warenne spotted Lynx’s tawny head above the crowd in the great hall and the two men embraced warmly, relieved to find each other unscathed from the recent fighting. Lynx could see that John was bursting with news.
“I have reason to believe Edward is going to appoint me Governor of Scotland!”
“Congratulations, John. You won the country for him, so it’s only right you govern it. I want lordship of Dumfries; I’m delighted you’ll be in a position to give it to me.”
“Don’t you want to go to France with Edward?”
“I do not. I’ve handfasted the daughter of Dumfries’ steward. If she quickens with child during the year of the handfasting, I’ll wed her.”
“Then I should congratulate you; but, Lynx, surely you know you could look to the highest ladies in the land?”
“It is the child that matters to me, John, not the wife; and Jane Leslie comes from a family of prolific breeders.”
“Ah,” John said, as understanding dawned, “so that’s the attraction.”
“By the look of this horde, we’ll be here a month of bloody Sundays. By the time I get back to Dumfries, I may have been gone six months; half my year will be gone.”
John laughed and thumped Lynx on the back. “Then you’ll have to double your efforts to make up for lost time.”
Thomas approached the de Warennes with a frown furrowing his forehead. “There’s not a cubbyhole left, my lord; even the bedbugs have been displaced.”
“Pitch my tent with the men.”
“Oh, I haven’t given up yet, my lord.” Thomas took a pair of dice from his doublet. “Never underestimate the luck of the Irish.”
“It might be politic for us to head toward the dining hall, or we won’t be fed either,” Lynx suggested.
When they
arrived in the crowded room, Lynx de Warenne came face-to-face with Alice Bolton. He stared at her in disbelief. “How dare you come to Berwick without my permission, madam?”
“My lord … Lynx … Lady Bruce returned to England. Would you rather I had gone with her?” she asked archly.
Lynx suddenly realized that wouldn’t have displeased him in the least, then cursed himself for a coward. He knew he was tiring of her, but she had given him two years of her life and deserved better of him.
Fitz-Waren strolled up to John de Warenne. “What a crush; everyone and his whore are here.”
Alicia flushed furiously, and Lynx gave Fitz-Waren such a malevolent look, he stepped back.
“Excuse us,” Lynx said curtly, steering Alicia away from the others. “You should not be here. This parliament has been called to conduct important business of the realm. You should have stayed put until I sent for you.”
“It was Jory’s idea that we come! She insisted; I had little choice in the matter.”
Lynx’s grim expression softened somewhat. “Speak of the devil,” he murmured as Jory and Elizabeth de Burgh emerged through the crowd of men.
Jory stood on tiptoe to kiss her brother. “Don’t be fierce with me for coming, Lynx, history is being made here in Berwick.”
His laugh rang out. “As if you give a tinker’s damn for history. ’Twas the victory celebrations you couldn’t resist, flaunting your beauty before the Scots nobles and dancing until dawn every night.” When it became known her uncle was to be Governor of Scotland, Lynx realized she would be coveted by every last one.
“Speaking of Scots nobles, Robert Bruce was asking for you. He’s in the east tower.”
Lynx saw Elizabeth de Burgh blush prettily at the mere mention of the Brace’s name. She was no more than a child, yet her head was filled with romantic notions. Females were all alike, he decided cynically.
Since his dice were loaded, Thomas had no difficulty securing a decent chamber for Lord de Warenne, and Lynx soon came to appreciate the comfort of a room over his campaign tent, when the parliament dragged on for a fourth then a fifth week. It seemed that Alicia had learned her lesson and waited for Lynx to send for her. He was in no hurry to see her, however.