The Border Vixen (31 page)

“Because ye knew who Flora Kerr was!” Maggie said with complete female logic. God’s toenail! The little bit of him within her felt so good. She wanted him to sheath himself completely and make her scream with delight, but she was not going to grovel. He would lose respect for her.

“For God’s sake, Maggie, say it!” he groaned. “Ye know ye want me.”

“Say yer sorry first for doubting me,” she told him. “Then I’ll say whatever ye want me to say, my lord husband, my love.”

“I’m sorry I doubted ye, Maggie mine. I was foolish too,” Fin told her.

“Please fuck me, my lord, as ye would fuck yer beautiful wife,” Maggie told him, and then gasped as he filled her full with himself.

“
Beautiful, foolish, suspicious wife
,” he said.

“Beautiful,” she repeated stubbornly.

“I’ll not move an inch, madam, until ye say what ye should,” Fin told her as stubbornly, and he looked down into her face, his gray eyes intense.

Jesu! Mary!
She could feel his hardness—every blessed bit of it. She felt the walls of her sheath tightening and releasing about it. Surrounded by her tight warmth, he could release his juices and gain his own pleasure now. She, however, needed more for her pleasure. Maggie glared back at him. “Beautiful, foolish, suspicious,” she said. “Now, damn you, Fingal Stewart, fuck me hard, and fuck me deep. Ye had better soothe the pride ye have just injured or I will never forgive ye!”

He began to move upon her, slowly at first, and then with increasing speed. Maggie soared and experienced starbursts behind her closed eyes. “Aah,” she said, but he was not finished with her. His skillful cock seemed to know just where to touch her, how much friction her sensitive flesh could endure. “Ah, ah, aah!” she moaned a second time. It was wonderful; yet he had not released his passions. Still, there was no time for her to think about it, for he was using her harder than he had ever used her before.

She had wrapped her legs about him, hooking her ankles together, but he was growling in her ear to release him. When Maggie did, he pushed her legs straight back over her shoulders while he plunged himself deeper and deeper and deeper into her.

Her head began to spin. Her heart was hammering in her chest, thundering in her ears. Maggie could feel the intense pleasure reaching up to enfold and surround her. Unable to help herself, she screamed with the delight that was overwhelming her. She couldn’t open her eyes. She could do nothing except experience the incredible pleasure he was giving her, sharing with her. Her mouth opened, gasping for air, screaming again a final time as her world exploded around her. Maggie felt herself being hurled down into a warm enveloping darkness as every inch of her tingled with satisfaction right down to the soles of her feet. The last thing she remembered was Fin roaring with his own pleasure, and then calling her name.

When Maggie finally came to herself again, she was filled with a contentment such as she had never before known. Fin was sprawled next to her, eyes closed, but his breathing was normal, to her relief. “What happened to us?” she asked aloud, not even knowing whether he was conscious enough to hear her, but he was.

“The French call it
la petite mort
,” he told her, his eyes still closed. “Jesu, madam! I hope we can attain it together again. Being beautiful, foolish, and suspicious suits ye.”

Maggie laughed. “It seemed to suit ye as well, husband,” she responded. “I can only hope our royal guest has as good a night as we seem to be having.”

Now it was Fin who chuckled. “How can he have as pleasant a time, Maggie mine? He doesn’t have ye, nor will he ever. He may be a king, but kings don’t always gain everything in life. Wealth and power, aye. But love? Not often. I think I actually feel sorry for James Stewart.” Then he reached for Maggie, pulling her into his arms, kissing her tenderly. “I love ye, Maggie mine. And yer the only woman I have ever loved, or will love.”

Maggie sighed happily, then she said, “But what if we had a daughter? Wouldn’t ye love her, my lord?”

“Aye,” he said, “but I should not love her the way I love her mother. How is it possible that ye have become so important to me? I never knew such a thing could be.”

“I know,” Maggie replied. “I love ye so much that I should even give up the Aisir nam Breug for ye, Fingal Stewart.”

“ ’Tis fortunate then that ye won’t have to, Maggie mine,” Fin told her. “Yer stuck with us both till death.” And he kissed her again as Maggie sighed, her heart soaring with happiness.

Chapter 11

T
he queen had birthed her first son on the twenty-second of May in the year 1540. He was James, Duke of Rothsay. Her second son, Arthur, was born on the twenty-fourth of April the following year. For Scotland, 1541 was not a good year. Prince James died two days after his brother’s birth, and the baby Arthur died on April thirtieth. James V was now without legitimate heirs once again.

The marriage between James’s mother, Margaret Tudor, and his father, James IV, had been made to ensure peace between the two countries. The peace barely survived the death of its maker, James’s father-in-law, Henry VII. The fragile peace had been broken several times over the years, the worst example being the battle fought on Flodden Field in September 1513.

James IV was not a man who wanted war. For the first time in years, Scotland was peaceful from the Borders to the Highlands. It was prosperous. But his alliance with France required he attack England if England attacked France. And England’s volatile king, James’s brother-in-law, Henry VIII, had joined the Holy League with Spain, Venice, and the pope to wage war on France. As the chivalry of the times demanded, James IV sent a message to Henry VIII informing him of his intentions to invade Northumbria. The Scots action wasn’t meant to begin a war, and Henry knew it. The Scots meant simply to harass the English and hopefully take some pressure off their French allies.

On the twenty-second of August, James and his army crossed the Tweed into England. Over the next few days they hammered Nor-ham Castle into rubble. Etal Castle surrendered without a fight as did Ford Castle. Lady Heron, the chatelaine of Ford, had a very pretty daughter, and the rumor was that James spent a few days at this castle seducing the girl. And while he did, the Duke of Suffolk, charged by Henry VIII with protecting the north, brought his army to Alnwick. The English had inferior numbers compared to the Scots. They were not as well armed. But King James was no real soldier, nor was he a tactician. The English overcame the Scots. James IV was killed along with the flower of his nobility. And now it was to begin again with his son, and the son of the man who had beaten his father.

Twenty years after Flodden, Henry VIII concluded the Treaty of Perpetual Peace with James V, his nephew. The Reformation had come to England, and Henry felt it was just another excuse for France, Spain, and the Holy Roman Empire to attack him. He wanted no problems from the north’s Catholic Scotland. James V’s marriage to a French wife did not reassure England’s king. Border raids continued with both sides equally guilty.

In 1541, Henry invited his nephew to York to discuss the state of their kingdoms. James did not come. The following winter of 1542, Henry sent James a letter forgiving him for his nonattendance. Henry was now like a beast with a wounded paw. He had just beheaded his fifth wife for her infamous adulteries, and he was already planning to join the Holy Roman Empire in a war against France. That spring he began quietly reinforcing his defenses in the north as the French were already engaged in their new war.

James countered. He called on the Gordon Earl of Huntly to mount a border defense. George Gordon rode into Brae Aisir at the head of a large party of mounted men one summer day. Dugald Kerr welcomed the earl graciously, but he was not pleased by what George Gordon had to say. Lord Stewart stood by the laird listening but remaining silent for the moment. He would not override the old man, for he was still lord of this keep. But he was disturbed by the earl’s demand.

“What the hell do ye mean we must close the Aisir nam Breug to all traffic?” Dugald Kerr said. “The pass is operated with our English kin. They won’t want to lose income any more than we do.”

“The English are preparing to invade us,” George Gordon said. His fingers clasped and unclasped the stem of the goblet he had been served.

“It is a known fact,” Dugald Kerr told the earl, “that neither side has ever allowed the pass to be used for warfare. We’ve dealt with King Henry’s minions before. The Aisir nam Breug remains safe because the Kerrs of Brae Aisir and the Kerrs of Netherdale never deviate from our centuries-old rule.”

“It will be too late when yer English kin allow an English army to ride through it,” the earl said testily, and he slammed his goblet down on the arm of his chair.

“If I tell Edmund Kerr I’m shutting off the Aisir nam Breug, he will take it as a hostile act,” Dugald Kerr said. “I will not ruin what has been a safe passage for travelers for centuries simply because King James and King Henry are having a pissing contest.”

The Earl of Huntly grew red in the face, and before the argument might escalate further, Fingal Stewart finally spoke up. “The English send their armies into Scotland via the eastern borders. And now and again they have come through the western hills. But never through the midsection of the Borders, my lord. The Aisir is too narrow a passage to allow an army to get through it. If you should like, I will take ye there on the morrow so ye may see for yerself. Travelers move single file. There is no way the traverse can be widened to accommodate any army. Lord Kerr is correct when he says to close our end of the passage would be to invite suspicion. Edmund Kerr is a true northerner, and he pays little heed to London. Ye know that is so with the northern English.”

“The king fears the pass may be an easy entry for Henry’s armies,” George Gordon said.

“The king has seen the traverse and should know better,” the laird snapped.

“The Kerr families have monitored the Aisir nam Breug for more than five hundred years, my lord. In all that time no invading army passed through it,” Lord Stewart said.

“And the king knew naught of this pass until several years ago. The Aisir nam Breug has never presented a threat to Scotland. Tomorrow you shall see for yourself. In the meantime, tell us of what is happening beyond our walls,” Fingal Stewart invited their guest. “Aah, I see the meal is coming to the high board. Let us be seated and eat.”

“The king would go to war, but he is no warrior. And the memory of Flodden still burns in the hearts and minds of every family who lost sons and fathers,” George Gordon said. “We are trying to keep these difficulties under control. There have been raids and counter raids. I’m surprised ye haven’t been disturbed.”

“We have had one raid recently, and some cattle were driven off, but ’twas no more than usual,” Fin replied.

“Yer fortunate,” the earl replied. “The English have been marauding and harassing the Tweed Merse. I had to drive them off at Haddon Rig, and now we are burdened with English prisoners. The dungeons at Edinburgh Castle are overflowing.”

Maggie sat, the perfect hostess, listening to everything that was said by the men at her table. She knew the keep could sustain a siege provided there were no cannons. Then Brae Aisir’s stone walls were as vulnerable as any. She had two sons, and while she had said nothing to Fin, she was certain she was breeding once again. And this time she wasn’t certain that being more to the west and middle of the Borders was going to keep them safe. And what if Fin were expected to go to war? He would go, and damn his family’s vaunted motto,
Ever faithful!
She needed him here with her, with the bairns, more than James Stewart needed him for cannon fodder. Maggie remembered the tales of Flodden, and how there was hardly a family in Scotland that had not lost men to it.

She was suddenly and inexplicably afraid.

“Yer unusually silent tonight, Granddaughter,” Dugald Kerr said. “What are yer thoughts on this new war brewing with England?”

“I don’t understand why there must be a war,” Maggie said. “England is England, and Scotland is Scotland. We have been so forever. What quarrel can King Henry have with us that he must send an army into Scotland?”

“It actually has more to do with France, Spain, the Holy Roman Empire, and the pope,” George Gordon said. “They quarrel with one another over a minutiae of nothing, but they must each have their allies. They would destroy England if they could, but they cannot. We have been allied with France for centuries, and the English do not like it. Now the Reformation has reached England, and it is beginning to creep into Scotland, giving everyone something else to quarrel over. When King Henry isn’t defending himself against his enemies over the water, he takes time to harry Scotland.”

“It is all quite ridiculous, ye know,” Maggie said candidly.

“Aye and nay,” the earl responded. “There is much licentiousness in the church today. They preach one thing while doing another. The poor, it would seem, are not stupid or unaware of the religious profligacy.”