Chapter 17

T he wedding ceremony was over so quickly that Simon could barely accept that he was marrying. Because of the late hour and the few witnesses, the bishop offered only two brief prayers in lieu of a nuptial mass. Then, blessing the bride and groom, he had them face their guests and presented them as husband and wife.

As he did, Simon saw Fife standing just inside at the rear of the nave.

"I must present you, my lady," Simon murmured.

The bishop, overhearing, said, "Indeed, you must, my son. I should have told you the Governor would be here. He said he desired no ceremony and would come in quietly. But in troth, with such haste and informality, I forgot to mention it."

Simon thanked him for marrying them. Then he escorted Sibylla to Fife and said with a slight bow, "You do us honor, my lord. May I present my lady wife?"

"Indeed, you may, although I have known the lady Sibylla for years," Fife said softly. "Isabel will miss your companionship, my lady. She arrives in a day or two, though, so you will have good opportunity to take your leave of her."

Rising from her curtsy, Sibylla said only, "Thank you, my lord."

"She will be pleased to know that you can remain here with her for a time," Fife went on. "That may appease your disappointment at learning that I have a task for your husband that will take him away from you for a sennight or two."

To Simon, he went on, "I had not realized you meant to wed so quickly, sir. But I want you to go to Huntly, for we learned today that the lady Catherine may have gone home. I think it unlikely myself, but the Colvilles have returned to Oxnam to stir their searchers there to greater activity, so I need someone I can trust to search Huntly and its environs thoroughly, in the event that the rumor is true."

"With respect, my lord, I have just this moment married," Simon said. "If the lady Catherine is at home, she is safe and will stay for a time. If you permit, I would take a few days to get to know my lady wife better before I must leave her."

" 'Tis a reasonable request, especially as Isabel has not yet arrived," Fife said, smiling again at Sibylla. "We may even receive word tomorrow that the Colvilles have found Catherine in Jedburgh or Kelso. I shall grant you four days as a wedding gift, Simon. I must also offer my felicitations, sir. This marriage pleases me well."

Nodding to them both, he gestured to the bishop and left the chapel with him, the little acolyte hurrying after them.

Simon's lips felt dry and his skin prickled. Knowing what Sibylla must be thinking, he did not want to face her. But he knew he must.

Turning to her, he said quietly, "Lass, we will talk of this later."

She nodded, saying nothing. But two small lines had appeared between her eyebrows. He was sure Fife's comments must have raised her doubts again. But he did not want to fratch with her in front of the others and was grateful for her silence.

To his further relief, she turned with a smile to receive their hugs and blessings, and they all trouped out together to collect their horses.

Half an hour later, they arrived at Buccleuch's house in the Canongate.

Sibylla had chatted with Amalie, Meg, and the two younger girls on the way, but she had not said a word to Simon.

It was not, he thought, an auspicious beginning for a man's wedding night.

Sibylla looked fondly around the table in Buccleuch's house at the people gathered there for a light wedding repast. She smiled at the ubiquitous Sym Elliot as he hurried hither and yon and then saw Garth grinning at her.

"You knew something Sunday afternoon," she said to him.

He nodded. "Wat and I went up to the castle Sunday morning to meet with Douglas before he left for Hermitage," he said. "The rumors flying about the place dismayed us. When you came here to dine, I saw that you were tense and unlike yourself. We knew something must have happened, although we did not believe most of what we heard. Not about you, at all events," he added with a twinkle in his eye.

Beside her, she sensed Simon stiffening, but he said, "I'd not blame either you or Buccleuch if you'd believed me capable of rape or worse, given what little you knew of me. But it is good that I won't be at the castle for some time now. I'd likely lose patience and throttle someone."

"Aye, sure, and it's as well that you came to us before we looked for you," Garth said. To Sibylla, he added, "He told us what happened and what he hoped to do. We'd meant to follow Douglas but agreed to delay when he said he would marry you tonight. However, he did not explain how he meant to get you to the altar until the last minute, when he needed us to watch the stairs for him."

"I heard Fife say that he's sending you to Huntly, Simon," Buccleuch said.

"Aye, he did say that, but he's given me a few days here first," Simon said.

Words of protest leapt to Sibylla's tongue, but she stifled them. Men always put duty first. But something had been troubling her about Fife's behavior in the chapel. For a shrewd, clever man, and a ruthless one, his behavior had been odd.

The last, fleeting look she had seen on his face had been one of triumph.

She had thought he was gloating about having contrived at last to bring about her marriage to Simon. But he had directed that look at Simon. She wanted to talk it over with him, but it was hardly a suitable time or place for such a discussion.

Everyone at the table was a friend, and now a kinsman as well. But she dared not speak the words that had leapt to her tongue, not with Alice and Rosalie there.

Simon had said nothing about anyone else going with them to Elishaw. So, it was likely that Lady Murray and

Sir Malcolm would be staying in Edinburgh with Rosalie and Alice. Either of the latter two might repeat what she heard here. Indeed, Alice would likely share all she knew with George Denholm.

The general conversation had turned to Catherine Gordon, eliciting heated opinions of the uneven match with Thomas until Meg said, "Sibylla, I've ordered a hot bath for you, so you may come with me and we'll leave the men to talk. And you, sir," she said sternly to her husband, "will send her husband up soon as well."

"I will, aye," Buccleuch said. He smacked her backside as she passed, adding with a grin, "Recall that I am your lord and master, lass, and behave accordingly."

She put her chin in the air. "Aye, my lord, when I choose."

Sym Elliot, appearing at her side, said, "All's prepared above, mistress. I'll tell them now in the kitchen to be sending the hot water up straightaway."

He hurried away, intent on his mission.

"We're coming, too, Meg," Amalie said, getting up. "You don't mind if all your sisters help you prepare for your wedding night, do you, Sibylla?"

"Nay, just promise me that Sym does not mean to oversee it all," Sibylla said, smiling. As the others burst into appreciative laughter, she turned to Lady Murray and said, "I hope you mean to come, too, madam."

Color tinged Lady Murray's cheeks as she said, "I will certainly come if you'd like me to, my dear. It is kind of you to include me."

Sibylla saw Amalie exchange an astonished look with Meg, but neither said a word. With the younger two chattering as they went up, the others held their peace.

In the tidy bedchamber to which Meg led them, a fire burned on the hearth with a large, empty tub sitting before it. A tall wooden screen stood at one side.

"This is our chamber," Meg said. "But it will afford you warmth for your bath and some privacy. The chamber you are to share with Simon lacks a fire, but we'll put you to bed after your bath. So he can bathe in here, too, if he likes."

The hot water soon came, and to Sibylla's relief, Sym bowed and left.

Arranging the screen around the tub, Amalie said, "We were all going to ride with you tomorrow, because Garth and Wat are going to Hermitage to join Archie if he is still there, or ride on after him to Threave if he has gone. We'll ride as far as Hawick with them, and then I mean to ride to Scott's Hall with Meg for a visit with her bairns. But I expect you won't be going with us if Simon has to go to Huntly."

"You are welcome to stay here, Sibylla," Meg said as she undid the back lacing of Sibylla's tunic while Sibylla deftly twisted her hair into a topknot. "Wat's brother is away and no one else will be using it for a month or so."

Sibylla thanked her but said, "I have no clothes with me. I've been wearing old ones and borrowing things the other ladies left in Isabel's chambers."

"Aye, well, you have your own clothing now, my dear," Meg said with a chuckle as she swept a familiar yellow woolen robe up off the bed and waved it at Sibylla. Your husband arranged to intercept a big bundle of your things from Sweethope Hill yesterday afternoon and had it delivered here to us."

"Sakes, I've been watching for that carter every day," Sibylla said. "But I never spared a thought for him today— not until I found myself in the chapel."

Lady Murray said, "It was clever of Simon to remember you had sent for clothing. Gentlemen frequently forget to concern themselves with such trifles."

Amalie chuckled. "Sakes, but Simon surprised us all. Who would ever have expected him to do such a mad thing as to abduct you, Sibylla? I did not believe it until I saw him carry you up the hill and into the chapel."

"Mercy, were you all standing there watching?" Laughing, they nodded. When Sibylla was nearly ready to get into the tub, Lady Murray suggested that someone make sure all was ready in the other chamber.

Meg smiled at her and said, "To be sure, you have not seen yet where they are to sleep. Come, and I'll show you. Amalie will stay to help Sibylla, and mayhap if we take these two chatterers with us, she can relax in her bath."

When they had gone, Sibylla seized the opportunity to say to Amalie, "I don't mean to stay here if I can avoid it, and I suspect Simon won't either, because we've something rather urgent to attend to at Elishaw."

"Sakes, but he'll have to stay," Amalie said, handing her the soap. "Fife said so. Besides, he'll have to ride to Huntly soon. What can be so urgent at Elishaw?"

"I should not say more without leave from him," Sibylla said. "And, prithee, do not ask him. It is important, though. If he cannot go, then I must."

"Well, he won't go, so I hope whatever it is can wait, because I doubt that Garth or Wat will let you ride by yourself from Hawick to Elishaw." She grinned. "Any other time, I'd go with you, but I dare not whilst I'm with child. As it is, Garth tries to make me use a horse litter now when we travel, but I won't do it."

"Tell me something, Amalie. Have you ever known your brother not to keep his word once he's given it—if it is in his power to do so?"

"No, but even if he gave it, he did not do so after Fife gave his order, so . . ." She ended with a shrug, and Sibylla, afraid she might be right, said no more.

The others soon returned, and she let them wrap her in her yellow robe and brush her hair while she dabbed on some scent. When they escorted her to the other chamber, she let them tuck her into bed. Then she begged them to leave.

"I love you all, and I hope you will forgive me," she said warmly, looking from one smiling, sisterly face to another and then to the more sober one of Lady Murray. "I shudder at the thought of so public a bedding."

Her three good-sisters and Alice agreed, laughing as they went and threatening to demand every detail on the morrow. When Lady Murray had shepherded them out, she shut the door and turned back to Sibylla.

"Do not fear that I mean to stay, my dear, for I shan't. I did want to tell you, though, that I believe you will suit our Simon very well as his wife."

Startled but grateful, Sibylla said, "Then you cannot be the reason my father told me my marriage was putting a hitch in his rope. As you had said you would not stand in the way, I doubted that was it, but I knew not what else it could be. I trust you will not think me impertinent if I say I hope he can make all smooth again."

"Dear me," Lady Murray said, turning pink again. " 'Twould be dishonest to deny that we have formed a tenderness for each other, my dear Sibylla. But with you and Simon marrying, Sir Malcolm becomes, by law, Simon's father, and I your mother. So he fears that we have fallen into a prohibited degree of kinship. I am not so certain, but he will look into it. I believe he meant to ask the bishop tonight had Fife not taken the man away so quickly."

"What if my father is right?" Sibylla asked, easily able to picture them married. They would complement each other well, because he was a good landsman and she would revel in managing the household at Elishaw and looking after him.

"He will seek papal dispensation, I warrant," Lady Murray said. "It is so often necessary these days in any event."

"What caused that dispute, my lady?" Sibylla asked. "Will you tell me?"

Color suffused the older woman's cheeks, but she squared her shoulders and said, "It was little more than what happened between you and Simon, my dear, with one trifling difference. We were both married, you see, and my husband walked in."

"Mercy!"

"Just so. Iagan was livid, and . . . and when Malcolm tried to take the blame and said he was just stealing a kiss, Iagan knocked him down. He would not hear Malcolm's name mentioned, and I'm afraid that over time, I accepted Iagan's belief that it was Malcolm's fault. Then he walked into the hall at Elishaw and I was . . . But I am talking too much now and should bid you goodnight, my dear. I just wanted to tell you that I approve of this match. You make Simon so much happier."

Without awaiting a response, she left the room.

Sibylla lay back against the pillows and tried to imagine her father kissing another man's wife, or Lady Murray another woman's husband, only to startle awake at the click of the latch and a chuckle that sounded like Garth Napier's.

A moment later the latch clicked again, and then there was silence.

She opened her eyes and saw Simon, wearing only a pair of breeks, his tawny hair curling damply, the muscles of his powerful torso clearly etched in the glowing candlelight. Her heart pounded, and nerves and other parts of her body that usually did not disturb her came eagerly to life.

When Simon entered, he thought she was asleep and stood still for a long moment, gazing at her. One naked arm lay atop the coverlet, which had slipped low enough to reveal her smooth shoulders and the soft swell of her fine breasts.

Her skin looked golden. The candles on the stand by the bed had turned it so and had set highlights dancing in her hair. She had left its long tresses unplaited, which he thought a more encouraging sign than her silence earlier.

The room was plain but tidy. The bed looked large enough for comfort and sturdy enough to accommodate a lustful couple. His lips curved at the thought, just as she opened her eyes and looked at him.

He could not read her expression, but he thought she colored a little as she said, "I think I must have fallen asleep."

"I hope you don't want to go back to sleep," he said. "Nay," she said, sitting higher on the pillows and tugging the coverlet up over her breasts. "I want to talk."

"I know you do, lass. About what Fife said—"

"Simon, has it occurred to you that his behavior was most unusual? Recall that soon after Thomas walked in on us he was sitting next to Fife in the hall."

"Aye, he was, and I've no doubt he told Fife what he had seen, and little doubt that he exaggerated it all to put me in the wrong."

"Or mayhap to twist the truth because Fife told him that a stolen kiss would not be reason enough for us to feel obliged to marry," she said.

"Look here, lass, I ken fine what you think about Fife, but I swear to you, I offered to—nay, I arranged for us to marry because I wanted to marry you."

"Duty, sir?"

" No ," he said savagely. "Not duty!"

"Your lady mother said you knew your duty."

" Did she?" He dashed a hand through his still-damp hair and pressed his lips together, struggling to reclaim his calm. But he wanted to throw something or shake someone—his mother. He glanced away but forced himself to look back at Sibylla.

She was eyeing him expectantly, her soft lips parted. "Lass . . . Sibylla, I don't know what I can say to persuade you that Fife had nowt to do with my decision, or with my wanting you."

"I know," she said softly.

"But how can you know? His very words to me earlier tonight had to sound as if we had conspired together to bring about that wedding."

"It did sound exactly so," she said. "But does it not occur to you that such clumsy behavior is not at all like Fife?"

Simon relaxed. He had expected to have to persuade her of that himself and had feared she would be in no mood to listen. "We're going to Elishaw," he said.

Still in that soft voice, she said, "I told Amalie we would go with them."

"Sakes, you are a witch."

"Nay, but I have lived for years in the shadow of Fife, sir. Men have called him coward, but none has suggested he is inept. Our unloved Governor is shrewd and subtle in his acts. He would not behave as he did tonight without purpose, so we must ask ourselves what that purpose is."

"We can talk about it later," he suggested.

But she went on. "He ordered you here to Edinburgh, away from Elishaw. What reason did he offer for that, and what reason to send you farther away now?"

"I agree that we should discuss all that, lass, but I do not understand how, from such thoughts, you deduced that we would ride to Elishaw with the others."

" 'Tis simple, sir. You promised me we would go to Elishaw, and I believe you are a man of your word. It will have to be a quick trip—for you, at least—because you will still have to ride to Huntly. Fife is too dangerous to defy outright."

"We'll see," he said, smiling. "But for the moment—" "Wait," she said.

"I don't want to wait."

Sibylla wanted to know more but wondered if it was worth it to press him more on their wedding night. In truth, with him standing there looking as he did, she was finding it harder than usual to think. She did not want to anger him.

They could fight later if necessary. For now, she wanted him to come closer.

He said gently, "Even Fife will not cavil if I explain later that I wanted to get you away from those lying rumors. I'm hoping we can reach Elishaw in just over a day as we need not concern ourselves with my lady mother's notions of travel."

"Mercy, 'tis more than thirty miles, is it not? And what of Amalie?"

"Garth will see to her. She takes too many risks, he says, but he can handle her easily when he must. And we've decided to take the main roads, because we can cover the distance faster and change horses more easily. So it will be longer but quicker."

She had not thought of changing horses. Isabel traveled fast, but her men-at-arms led a string of extra mounts in case someone's horse injured itself. The ladies rarely needed an extra one. But they rarely traveled even twenty miles in a day.

"I do see that you might ride to Elishaw and back in four days' time, sir, but do you mean you may not go to Huntly at all?"

"If you are right and Kit is Catherine, that question will be moot, will it not?"

"Aye, but you do not believe she is."

"I think she may have information that can help us find Catherine. Even ruling out that possibility will help. In any event, I can send word to Oxnam, so the Colvilles can go to Huntly if need be, and I'll tell Fife the activities of the raiders keep me at Elishaw. In troth, lass, he cannot expect me to continue much longer in his service now that I am responsible for a border stronghold."

She had no idea what Fife expected of him, but she knew enough to be sure the Governor had some plot in mind. Simon had twice rubbed his bare arms, though, and with a damp head and no shirt, she knew he must be getting cold.

"You should come to bed, sir. We can talk more tomorrow as we ride."

"Aye, sure we can, lass, but I cannot trust myself to touch you until I can be sure we have talked enough to ease your mind. This marriage has been gey sudden, and you were sorely vexed with me."

"I was furious," she said. "But I agreed to this marriage, and if I must ride all day tomorrow, I need to sleep." Trying to sound casual and not shy about the duty that lay before her, she said, "I warrant you have another activity in mind, though."

"I do, aye," he agreed. He took a step nearer before pausing to say, "Art sure of this, Sibylla?"

Relaxing, she drew back the covers and scooted over to make room, saying, "Am I to understand you will now submit to my wishes, sir?"

"You may hope," he said, unfastening his breeks and letting them fall.

She stared. He was certainly ready for her.

Simon heard her gasp and saw her eyes widen. In the candles' glow, her huge pupils made them look black. But black or their usual silver, they were like glass, and he could see the nearest candle flame reflected in them.

Her beauty stunned him as it always did, and the anticipation of touching her stirred his cock again as strongly as it had when she had told him to come to bed.

Without hesitation, he got in and shifted himself to look down at her as he shoved the covers away, baring her splendid body so he could gaze on it as he once had by moonlight. Again the primeval urge that had nearly overcome him the first time he had touched her sprang to life, and before she could draw her next breath, he had her in his arms and his mouth had claimed hers.

When she moved against him, his tongue swiftly penetrated the soft inner recesses of her mouth. He stroked her body, savoring its smoothness as he continued kissing her. His left palm cupped a breast, finding it firm and just the right size. Fingering its erect nipple, he heard her moan, and her hips moved toward him.

His urges increased, shouting at him to take her. But he restrained himself, recalling her maidenhood, and shifted his lips to the nipple, suckling gently. She squirmed, and he relished her soft gasps and mews.

He had expected maidenly resistance, but she displayed none. And although she had yet to learn how to please him, he could wait for that. Pausing sometime later, he raised his head and saw that although her lips had parted, her eyes had shut.

"A good wife does not fall asleep too soon on her wedding night," he murmured provocatively.

Her mouth quirked into a smile. "Don't stop," she murmured. "I had no notion that a man could make a woman feel like this."

"Dearling lassie, I can make you feel much more. For example . . ."

Sibylla sighed as his lips moved from one breast to the other and back again, gently nibbling and sucking. Then his hot breath warmed a nipple, his wet tongue laved it, and she stopped breathing to savor the sensations sweeping through her.

She paid vague heed to his hands as his tongue stroked her eager flesh.

Her hands caressed and explored him everywhere she could reach. She had known his body was hard and muscular, but she had not known his skin could feel soft and smooth, that his stomach would feel rock hard, that he would have so much hair, or that the hair on his chest would feel so soft and springy.

His lips and tongue brushed across her belly, making her gasp again and wonder how it would taste to do such a thing to him.

Her fingers laced themselves in his hair as if they thought they could stop him doing aught she did not like. A bubble of laughter rose in her at the thought. She doubted he would do anything to which she or her body would object.

A large hand moved to where her legs joined, cupping her there.

Surprised, she stiffened, her fingers tightening in his hair.

His kisses continued, moving upward to her breasts again, while his hand stayed where it was, quiet but confident of its right to be there. He suckled again as a bairn might, then eased back up to capture her mouth.

Realizing she was pulling his hair, she untangled her fingers and shifted that hand to his shoulder.

As she did, his hand below moved and a finger penetrated her there, making her gasp again and grip him with both hands, her fingernails digging into his flesh.

He moaned softly against her lips but uttered no other protest. His tongue continued to explore her mouth and his fingers below stayed busy as he eased over her more, his body hard above hers.

Her fingers gripped him again when he moved his left knee between her legs, easing them farther apart. Soon he was on all fours with both knees there, and when she reached a hand to touch his belly and began to stroke there as he had stroked her, he caught the hand and put it up by her head, pressing it into the pillow as he eased himself down to her with his weight on that elbow.

All the while, his fingers below kept busy, rubbing her there so she could think of nothing but how he was making her feel. Her body arched. His fingers stopped, and something larger touched her.

Gasping, she went perfectly still.

It was like slipping a living sword into a hot velvet sheath, he thought as he began to ease his way in. She was hardly the first woman he'd had, but never before had he been with one whose every breath, sound, and movement excited him.

The little gasp he had heard and the way she had stilled made him want to plunge right in. But experience had taught him that resisting that impulse led to greater pleasure for both partners. He could not imagine that the sensations firing through him could intensify, but if such a chance existed, he did not want to lose it.

He paced himself carefully, keeping his eyes open, watching her as he eased himself farther and farther into her softness.

Her eyes were nearly shut, her eyelids fluttered, and he could feel her begin to relax beneath him. Then his cock met resistance.

Her eyes opened wide.

"Am I hurting you?" he murmured.

"A little, but it will pass, will it not?"

"Aye." He stroked a breast with his free hand. Realizing he still held her hand against the pillow, he let go of it.

Easing gently out and back in again, he repeated the movements slowly for a time as the pressure built within him. But when her hips began lifting to meet his, he could stand it no longer. Moving faster, then faster, he forgot all save energy and sensation, feeling the inner tension increase until the moment of climax, when his breath exploded from him, leaving him raggedly gasping, leaning on his elbows, gazing into the face of his beautiful wife.

Tears glistened in her eyes.

"Faith, lass, I did hurt you!" He brushed a tear away with his thumb.

"Nay, 'tis only . . . we are truly married now, are we not?"

"Is that so bad?"

"In some ways, not at all," she said, smiling softly. "But 'tis easier to remember you shouting at me in the kirk that day than to think of you as my husband."

His sense of humor stirred, and he said dryly, "Well, if it is any comfort, I don't feel that way anymore. I think you will suit me well as a wife, lass."

To his surprise, she sighed and said, "Your mother said the same thing."

" Did she? I own, I did not think of pleasing her when I arranged all this. If I thought of her at all, it was with relief that our marriage would put an end to her persistent notion of wedding me to one of her English cousins."

"Sakes, I should be grateful that she approves of me," Sibylla said.

"It will go easier for us if she likes you, lass. We both know that."

Sibylla was glad Lady Murray had blessed their marriage, but the jolt of disappointment she'd felt when Simon had so casually said she would suit him as a wife had surprised her and stolen much of the delightful languor she had felt.

He did not linger but got up, cleaned himself at the washstand, and then brought back a damp cloth for her. There was a little blood, but she had known to expect it, and Meg would not cavil over a few drops on the sheet.

When he climbed back into bed, he put an arm around her and drew her close, saying, "We've a long day tomorrow, lass, so we'd best sleep now."

With an ear against his chest, she could hear his heart beat. In minutes he was sound asleep, breathing deeply. She soon slept, too.

When she awoke the next morning, the curtain was open, letting gray dawn light into the room, and Simon was gone.

Sitting up in bed, remembering that he thought of her as little more than a friend who would suit him as a wife, she wondered if she would regret marrying him.