* * *
Fitz-Waren was not the only watcher at the forest pool this day. Green eyes gazed through the canopy of leaves, silently watching the man who crouched behind a tree. He was a master of stealth, motionless and infinitely patient. The lynx stared unblinking as if mesmerized. He licked his lips, his appetite whetted for the flesh that would slake his growing hunger. Never taking his eyes from his prey, he moved his weight so that it was more comfortably distributed as he crouched and waited for the man to flee so he could take hot pursuit.
When Fitz-Waren shot his arrow and hit the wrong target, he was momentarily rooted to the spot. He saw Lynx de Warenne recognize him and knew escape was impossible unless the fool chose to aid the woman rather than pursue him. Fitz-Waren fled in panic, but as he bolted along the forest path, he could hear someone following him through the trees. He ran faster, frantic, as he realized his pursuer was gaining on him.
Fitz-Waren felt as if his lungs were on fire and his heart felt as if it would burst. He knew he had no choice but to fight for his life. He unsheathed his knife and turned to face his nemesis. What he saw made his eyes bulge from their sockets. It was not the Lynx he was expecting, but a lynx nevertheless! The wild cat was in full flight, and as he turned he watched, almost hypnotized as it leaped upon its prey.
The impact knocked the knife from Fitz-Waren’s hand and the last breath from his body as it took him to the forest floor. Fitz-Waren feared his sanity would leave him, as he felt the lynx’s claws rip through his clothes and the large incisors slash into his throat. As he screamed, blood bubbled up through the holes its teeth had made and he watched in terrified agony as the lynx licked his blood with relish. The uncanny resemblance of green eyes and tawny pelt sent a deadly chill along Fitz-Waren’s spine as he realized the wild cat was going to toy with him before it delivered its coup de grace.
“Get Megotta,” Lynx shouted to Keith Leslie as the boy took his horse. Taffy ran across the bailey and flung the castle doors wide. As Lynx carried Jane through them, he ordered, “Take some knights into the forest and hunt down Fitz-Waren!”
When Marjory saw the pair covered with blood, she cried out in alarm.
“She’ll be all right, Jory. She’s been hit with an arrow—get hot water and bandages.” Lynx carried Jane upstairs and laid her down gently on the bed so he could examine the wound. The arrow had pierced her shoulder deeply, but he saw with great relief that there was no metal head embedded in her flesh.
Jane’s face was blanched white and she was biting down on her lips in an effort to silence her moans of distress. “You will have to be brave, love, while I pull out the rest of this arrow.”
She nodded, trusting this man above all others to help her.
Lynx unsheathed his knife and knelt beside her. If he could not pull it out, he would have to dig down with the blade. “It’s all right to scream, Jane, you don’t have to hold it inside.” He knew he must be cruel to be kind. Her pain would be unbearable, but he was confident the wound was not fatal. Lynx was far more worried that the shock of it all could make her lose their baby.
With a sure hand and steady fingers he grasped the broken shaft and pulled. It was so slick with blood, Lynx felt his fingers slipping. He gripped it more firmly and pulled hard. It came out with a little whoosh; the hole quickly filled with blood. He saw the tears streaming down her face, but he had been concentrating on his task so intently, Lynx had not heard her scream.
Jory stood by with the hot water as Lynx bathed Jane’s shoulder, sprinkled powdered yarrow into the wound, then bound her up. “I’ve sent for Megotta, she’ll give you some poppy for the pain.”
Jane looked alarmed. “No! It might harm the baby.”
Lynx brushed the back of his fingers across her cheek in a tender gesture, not the least surprised at her selflessness. “I love you, Janie.” He dropped a kiss on the top of her head and beckoned Jory to follow him from the chamber.
“Is Jane with child again?”
“Yes, keep a close watch on her for me. I have some unfinished business.”
Thomas had a fresh mount waiting in the bailey. Lynx put on the doublet his squire handed him and led the way into the forest in the direction of the pool. It didn’t take them long to make the grisly discovery. Fitz-Waren’s throat had been torn open and a huge chunk of his flesh had been devoured. Lynx bent down to pick up the body.
“I’ll do it, my lord,” Thomas proffered.
“Nay, I’ll do it,” Lynx said grimly. “I don’t want him buried anywhere near Jane’s pool.”
* * *
Lynx de Warenne and his knights had been all set to leave Dumfries the following day, but now their departure was delayed. Jane assured him she was fit to travel, but Lynx, ever protective, insisted she have a few days of bed rest, telling her there was no reason for any great haste. The following day, fateful events took place that proved Lynx de Warenne wrong.
Robert Bruce with two of his men at his heels rode hell-for-leather into Dumfries’ bailey. Lynx, noting his gray pallor and his agitation, immediately knew there was trouble. The Bruce refused to come inside, refused even to leave his saddle. “There is no time! Why in Christ’s name are you still here?” he demanded.
“Jane wasn’t fit to travel,” Lynx said shortly. “What has happened?”
“Comyn betrayed me! He dispatched our signed bond to Edward Plantagenet. We intercepted his messenger with the incriminating documents on him.”
“Christ, he must have a death wish to betray you.”
“Then he got his wish. I just stabbed him by the high altar at the monastery.”
“Judas, what will you do?”
“I am riding to Scone immediately to be crowned. There is no alternative; they will arrest me for treason.”
“You killed Comyn on holy ground—you will need absolution!” Lynx said wildly.
“I have the clergy on my side. Don’t worry about me, my friend, look to your own safety. Get out of Scotland today!” He wheeled his destrier and spurred away. Lynx stood staring after him. Somehow their destinies were strangely linked. Both of their enemies had met death within hours of each other.
* * *
“There has been a slight change in plans,” Lynx told Jane and his sister, Jory. “We are leaving today, but I think the ride too rigorous for you and Lincoln Robert. I’m sending you by ship from the Solway down the coast to Chester. I’ll meet you there in a sennight.”
Both his wife and his sister protested, but Lynx was adamant. He took Jory aside and gave her an explanation he hoped would satisfy her. “I know you are capable of riding and keeping up with my knights, but Jane isn’t, and then there is the problem of Grace Murray and the baby. I want you to go with them and watch over Jane for me.”
“You are right. It will be less rigorous for us to go by ship. Don’t worry about Jane. I’m a wonderful sailor; I’ll take good care of her.”
When Lynx went back into the chamber, Jane put her hand on her husband’s arm. “Lynx, something is wrong. Only yesterday you told me there was no great haste.”
He searched her face and knew he must always share the truth with her. “It’s the Bruce—he’s riding to Scone to make a bid for the crown. If we remain in Scotland, we could be implicated in treason.” He covered her hand. “Whatever you do, don’t tell Jory. You know how impulsive she is—God knows what she would do—at the very least she would worry herself into a decline.”
“Jory will be just fine; she’s very strong.”
“Headstrong,” he said dryly.
She went up on tiptoe to kiss him. “It’s a family trait.”
He slipped a possessive arm about her, taking special care to be gentle with her shoulder. “As soon as I put you aboard, I want you in bed. I’m worried about the baby as well as your wound. Damn and blast everything, you shouldn’t be traveling!”
“We’ll both be fine, I promise you.”
“I’d better sail with you,” he said decisively.
“No, Lynx, you know your place is with your men. In only a week we’ll be in Chester.”
“Then I’ll have Thomas and Taffy sail with you.”
“Oh dear, they will love you for that!”
Less than two hours after they set sail, Jory was hanging over the ship’s rail, retching up everything she had eaten that day. Jane led her down to her cabin and washed her hands and face with rosewater. “I want you to get into bed and I’ll give you a little bistort; it’s wonderful for nausea.”
Jory groaned. “I’m supposed to be looking after you!”
“And so you shall. The bistort will settle your stomach immediately.”
Within half an hour Jory was no longer green about the gills. Jane closed her medicinal box and sat down on the berth. “There, what did I tell you?”
“Jane, I’m amazed you have no nausea, are you sure you’re having another baby?”
“Very sure … my monthly courses have stopped, my breasts are extremely tender, and I have to pee every five minutes.”
“Ahh,” Jory said thoughtfully, the corners of her mouth lifting with self-satisfaction.
Jane studied her rapt face for a moment. “Jory … you’re not …?”
“I have reason to hope,” Jory whispered joyfully.
“Oh my dear, Lynx was right, you are headstrong.”
“Don’t you dare to tell him. I want to savor my secret as long as I possibly can before all the ranting and raving starts.”
“Does Robert know?”
“Of course not! His destiny lies one way and mine another, but now he will always be a part of me.”
A week later, when Lynx de Warenne and his mesne clattered into the courtyard of Chester Castle, Jane, who had been eagerly watching for his arrival, ran out to greet him.
His anxious eyes swept her small figure from head to foot and he could tell by her radiant face that all was well with her pregnancy. Lynx dismounted quickly and gently slipped his arm about her. “How is your shoulder, love?”
“It’s healing well, though still tender, damn it! I wanted to fling myself into your arms to show you how much I’ve missed you!”
He covered her mouth with his, delighted with her sensual response. “Mmm, I’ll have to leave you more often if this is the welcome I get.”
“Just wait until you see how grand our chambers are. I had no idea castles could be this magnificent.”
“Wait until you see Chester Cathedral. That’s where I’m taking you today. I never did get to properly say my vows to you.”
Jane, wearing Lynx’s favorite pink lamb’s-wool gown, stood before the high altar while she and her adoring husband confirmed their wedding vows. Before they left the cathedral Jane gazed about in wonder. “I’ve never seen anything so splendid!”
“Do you feel truly wed to me, now?”
She turned her face up to him. “Yes, I truly feel like Lady Jane de Warenne.”
Lynx couldn’t resist teasing her. “Now that you are in England, you will have to behave like a lady at all times. No more swimming naked, no more running about the woods unclothed. This is a civilized country.”
Jane hid her smile. Two could play teasing games, she decided.
Lynx de Warenne’s knights and those of the Earl of Chester enjoyed a wedding feast in Chester’s vaulted dining hall. When it was time for the newlyweds to leave and seek their chamber, Jane seemed reluctant and lingered over the wine and the music. She hid her amusement as Lynx’s hints to retire became more pointed by the minute. After listening to him for an hour, she decided to put him out of his misery.
“Shall we leave the men to their dicing?” she suggested intimately, and was rewarded by an overwhelming look of relief on Lynx’s face. Jane smiled her secret smile; she wasn’t done with him yet!
When the door to their chamber closed, Jane went into his arms. “Lynx darling, thank you for bringing Blanchette. I have a special fondness for my lovely white mare, but of course I know how strict your rules are when I’m with child.” She left his arms and put a little distance between them. “And I promise to obey every last one: no riding, no lifting, no lovemaking, no overexertion of any kind.”
No lovemaking? Lynx looked at her intently to see if she was serious. She certainly looked serious.
“Now that I am Lady de Warenne I want you to be proud of my accomplishments. I have learned how to play the lute and how to play chess so that I can entertain you on a long winter’s night. Let me show you,” she said eagerly.
“But it isn’t winter,” he said miserably.
“Please play with me?” she begged prettily.
Her titillating words aroused him instantly. Lynx sat down reluctantly and eased the tight material across his swollen groin. His eyes never left his beautiful wife; he hardly looked at the board as he moved the pieces absently.
“Lynx, am I boring you?” she asked innocently.
“No, sweetheart, but why don’t we make it more interesting and play for forfeits?”
“Whatever you desire, darling.”
Within seconds he took one of her pawns and with a sigh, Jane removed a satin slipper and offered it to him.
“Ah, no, my love; I get to choose the forfeit.” His green eyes narrowed. “I’ll have your dress, ’tis my favorite.”
Most reluctantly and very slowly Jane unfastened the buttons and peeled off the pink lamb’s-wool gown. Her movements were so provocative and tantalizing that Lynx became suspicious. The little minx was playing sex games, if he wasn’t mistaken! He deliberately made a vulnerable move with one of his knights and watched her swoop down on it.
“I lose,” he said with resignation. “Take your gown and put it back on.”
Jane stared at him in dismay. “But I don’t want to put it back on,” she blurted out.
“English ladies don’t play chess in the buff,” he said reprovingly.
“I’m not in the buff, I’m in my shift.”
“Not for bloody long, you’re not!” He made a grab for her and she danced away across the room.
As he began to stalk her, he removed his doublet, then the rest of his garments, tossing them aside as he gained upon her. Just as she thought she had eluded him, he pounced and carried her down to the thick-piled rug. Then pinning her beneath him, he pulled off her shift and rubbed his swollen shaft across her breasts and down her belly.
“Lord de Warenne, have you no control?” “Lady de Warenne, where you are concerned, I have not.”
Jane arched her back, unable to wait a moment longer for his ravishing. Buried in her sleek heat, he tongued every naked inch of her skin until she was writhing with liquid tremors. Their bodies were so perfectly attuned, they erupted together and she cried out with passion as his white-hot seed spilled into her. She clung to him, loving his weight, his scent, his hardened warrior’s body.
“What a pity to waste that beautiful curtained bed,” she whispered languorously.
“I have no intention of wasting it, there are things I’m going to do to you that require the privacy of curtains,” he teased.
Later in the big curtained bed, the lovers touched, kissed, and whispered the night away. Lynx lifted the touchstone from between Jane’s breasts and gazed down at it. “Perhaps the magic symbol of the lynx does protect you.”
“I ofttimes wonder if you and my lynx are one and the same,” Jane murmured softly. “Are you a shape-changer, sometimes a man, sometimes a beast?”
“I am whatever you want me to be,” he growled softly, licking her throat with his rough tongue.
Later, when all their love games were played out, Lynx looked deeply into her eyes. “Jane, will you always love me as you do tonight?”
She touched her lips to his and vowed fiercely, “I will and I shall!”
AUTHOR’S NOTE
Bruce was crowned King Robert I at Scone by the Bishops of Glasgow, St. Andrews, and Moray, the most powerful churchmen in Scotland. In defiance of Edward Plantagenet, the north rose in his support
. Sixteen earls from Perthshire, twelve each from Angus and Fife, eleven each from Aberdeen, Banff, and Moray, six from Lennox, four each from Stirling and Argyll, and one from Dunbarton declared for Bruce.
Robert wed Elizabeth de Burgh, daughter of the Earl of Ulster, and the union lasted twenty-five years.
It was not until the decisive Battle of Bannockburn in 1314 that King Robert won Scotland’s independence.
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Copyright © 1998 Virginia Henley
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