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Chapter 16

On the ride from Newcastle to Wigton, Lady Marjory and the Bruce indulged in a daring game. He treated her with rigid respect and in return her manner was cool and distant. This, of course, was a pretense they feigned in the company of others. The Bruce made certain they rode alone together every few hours so that they could secretly indulge in an outrageous flirtation. The things they said were seductive, intimate, and even shocking. They teased and toyed with each other, exchanging suggestive innuendos designed to titillate and provoke a sensual response. The game was doubly delicious because it was a secret they alone shared.

At every rest stop he was there to lift her from the saddle. Since they were surrounded by others and did not wish to arouse suspicion, they exchanged only a few polite words. His touch, however, clearly told her that he wanted her. His daring fingers touched the sensitive underside of her breasts as his eyes, smoldering with lust, promised he would soon take what he wanted.

Whenever his bold hands touched her intimately and his powerful arms lifted her from the saddle, she could feel the scalding heat from his palms seep through the material of her riding dress, and she became weak with longing. By the time they reached Wigton their days of foreplay had reached the point of culmination.

Jory ran up to the ramparts, knowing the Bruce would follow. He strode to her side, his arms bare, his chest covered by a metal breastplate. Her head fell back as she looked up at him. "You look like a conqueror."

He reached out and wrapped a silver-gilt tress of hair about his fist. "Conquest is in my blood."

"Robert!" Jory was breathless with desire.

His mouth swooped down and took possession of her lips. He felt her quiver, felt her arms entwine about his neck to keep her from falling. "Wrap your legs about me," he urged.

In a fever of need he carried her from the crenellated roof and swept her into the chamber she indicated. His arms felt so strong, she wanted them about her forever. The ache inside her spread from her belly, to her heart, and into her throat. She was filled with a raging desire to be mated, something that had never ever happened with her husband. With eager hands she removed her clothes while he stripped before her. She reached out hungrily to touch the musculature of his chest and found it as hard as if he were still wearing the breastplate.

His upthrust cock was hard too, and she reveled in the feel of it as he rolled her beneath him and thrust up inside her to the hilt. He filled her with so much sexual energy, she went wild, clawing and arching and crying her pleasure with abandon. The Bruce's mating was hard and savage and selfish, and Jory relished every passionate moment. In frenzy she bit his shoulder and the tide was turned instantly. From drowning in need she soared on the crest of a towering wave; then she shuddered uncontrollably with liquid tremors. With a hoarse cry, he spilled his white-hot seed up inside her. He rolled with her until she lay above him in the dominant position, her disheveled hair spilling to his chest.

"I'm sorry I behaved like a great rutting stag, throwing you on your back and having my way with you."

She gazed down into his eyes. "Liar, you are not sorry at all. You are triumphant!"

He lifted her off his body, laid her beside him, and came up on his elbow. "Do you know why I am triumphant? I've lusted to fuck you since you were seventeen."

"Robert!" she protested. "We made love."

"Love? Nay, it was lust, pure and simple." His fingers touched the delicate golden curls on her mons. "You have the prettiest cunny I've ever seen. I've imagined it for years."

Jory smiled a secret smile. This mating had given her a sense of power and confidence. I will make you love me, Robert Bruce. I'll have you eating out of my hand before I'm done with you…and I'll never be done with you!

He took her again, and Jory marveled that she had aroused him so quickly. She exulted in the power she had over him. The moment he slaked his lust, however, he quit the bed and dressed.

"Take me with you to Carlisle," she tempted. His hand caressed her bottom and she thought he would take her. Then he slapped her bum and said, "Can't be done."

Jory couldn't believe her ears, and then realization dawned. "You won't be staying at Carlisle, will you, Robert?"

"Not for long. I'm off to topple a king from his throne. I'll take back my castles and then Annandale and Carrick."

His ambition and hard resolve were so palpable they filled the room, blotting her out. She stood on the bed, forcing him to look at her. "You won't stop there—you'll try to take Scotland!"

"You're a clever wench, wheedling my secrets from me. I should know better than to let a woman close enough to read my heart."

Jory soon learned that she did not wish Alicia Bolton for her friend. They took their meals together, but spent their days in different pursuits. Alice attended her wardrobe and her person, embroidering petticoats, dying her hair, and drinking vinegar to keep off fat and make her lean. Jory also discovered that Alice hoarded a supply of pennyroyal, an herb that induced abortion. Alice is a bloody fool! Doesn't she realize that Lynx would marry her if she gave him a child?

Jory much preferred being outdoors, riding through the foothills of the Cumbrian Mountains or flying a hawk in the forest. She thought about Robert Bruce every day and knew with a certainty that he would be back. Her femininity would draw him like a lodestone. They may be disparate in size and in coloring, but under the skin she fancied they were birds of a feather…two of a kind…a perfect match.

Robert Bruce's thoughts were occupied elsewhere. He recruited fighting men from Northumberland to march across the Border into Scotland. When word reached him of King Edward's massacre of Berwick, he knew that his enemy Comyn, who commanded the Scottish army, would retaliate by attacking Carlisle. So Bruce set a trap.

Comyn's army crossed the Border and began to ravish England. They destroyed Hexham, then looted and burned their way through Redesdale and Tynedale, drawing ever closer to their goal.

Comyn rode into the walled City of Carlisle with three thousand, relishing the surprise attack. When most of his army was inside, he was the one surprised as the Bruce's men attacked from four directions. They were trapped like fish in a barrel, and by afternoon more than one thousand Scots lay dead in the streets of Carlisle. Comyn escaped through the city gates and urged the commanders and clan chiefs outside the walls to attack, but they caught wind of the massacre and fled back through the dales.

It was only after the Bruce had achieved victory and was washing the dust from his throat with a tankard of ale that he thought of Marjory de Warenne. He suddenly realized that Wigton was unsafe and knew he must go immediately and bring her to the safety of impregnable Carlisle Castle.

"I knew you would come," Jory said.

He heard the note of triumph in her voice and grinned wickedly. He bent his head close so that Alicia could not hear. "We've no time to fuck, sweetheart." He raised his voice to include Lynx's mistress. "The Scots army is fleeing and looking for a refuge like Wigton. Pack your things. I'm taking you both to Carlisle."

Jory ran upstairs to do his bidding, excited to be going to Carlisle, but she discounted the danger and privately thought it was an excuse the Bruce had decided upon to get her to his castle.

Marjory Bruce kissed her goddaughter. "Welcome to Carlisle. 'Tis an ugly castle to look at, but it is massive and impregnable."

"'Tis impregnable because the Bruces govern it," Jory declared.

She bribed a steward with a coin and a smile to give her a chamber apart from the ladies' quarters. After she unpacked, she went down to the hall for dinner and was introduced to young Elizabeth de Burgh.

"This is Elizabeth, the Earl of Ulster's daughter. Her father has placed her in my care while he takes his Irishmen to fight for Edward Plantagenet. Poor child thought she was going to France, but finds herself stuck on the Border of Scotland."

"Don't we all?" Alicia Bolton said caustically.

Jory engaged the fourteen-year-old in conversation, and by the end of the meal it was clear to all that the girl had fallen under the spell of the fascinating lady with silver-gilt hair who wore the most elegant clothes Elizabeth had ever seen.

When Jory retired she sat daydreaming before the fire. It was the eleventh hour before the Bruce came.

"Why aren't you abed, my beauty?"

She smiled up at him. "I thought you'd enjoy undressing me."

"You didn't know I'd come," he protested.

"Of course I knew you'd come…I am your obsession."

He grinned. "Aye, you are my folly. But I spoke true at Wigton when I said there was no time for bed play."

She stood and unfastened her own gown. "Then we'd best dispense with the play and get to the heart of the matter."

With a low curse he threw off his clothes and tossed her onto the bed in her petticoat. He dived after her and laughed as she wrapped her legs tight about him and arched her mons so that he could glove himself in her honeyed sheath. The mating was cataclysmic. She had always feared that she might be sexually inadequate, but her response to Robert proved to her that she was a sensual, feminine creature who could be aroused in an instant by the right man. Her heart soared with her newfound knowledge.

"I'm coming," he cried as he thrust wildly. "I won't wait."

She arched her body up to him and shouted joyfully, "I'm there before you!"

They spent together and clung to each other laughing. His face sobered and he said earnestly, "I'll make it up to you next time." He grabbed up his clothes and strode naked from the room without a backward glance.

The Bruce set out immediately to rout the Scottish invaders from the English dales and chase them back across the Border. So many flocked to the Bruce banners that he soon had control over his old territories in Scotland.

Ensconced in his stronghold of Lochmaben at the head of the Annandale Valley, Robert sent a message with his brother Nigel to John de Warenne who commanded the English army:

At Carlisle we won a victory over half the Scots force. The Bruces will hold Annandale, Galway, and Carrick secure for Edward Plantagenet if he reconfirms our lands and castles in our name.

John de Warenne sent Lynx back with Nigel to persuade the Bruce to join forces.

When Lynx arrived at Lochmaben, Robert seemed averse to the plan. He rode out with his friend across Annandale visiting the Bruce castles and showing him the two thousand acres that had been granted to his ancestor by William the Conqueror. When they visited Dumfries Castle, Lynx could not help coveting the place.

"Dumfries isn't mine; it's a royal castle that lies in my territory." Each time Robert looked at Lynx he was vividly reminded of Lynx's sister, Jory. Their green eyes were identical. "When we defeat Comyn, ask the king to make you Governor of Dumfries; then we can be neighbors."

Lynx searched his face, wondering what prompted his change of heart. "I'm glad you'll join the fight; you won't regret it."

John de Warenne's military strategy worked like a charm. As his forces swept down on the main body of the Scottish army, Bruce's men came up behind to trap them between the two deadly forces. The battle that ensued was a crushing defeat for the Scots. Comyn was captured along with a hundred Scottish earls and knights and Dunbar Castle surrendered.

The king arrived from Berwick, well pleased with his commanding general. Edward promised to reconfirm Bruce in his lordship of Annandale once Baliol was captured. He needed Bruce to watch his back to keep the Scots from regrouping behind the English army. He did not trust Bruce, however, and knew sooner or later he would make a bid for the Crown of Scotland.

John de Warenne convinced the king that the next strategic goal should be Edinburgh. On the way they would force the surrender of every castle they encountered. John ordered Lynx to garrison Dumfries Castle to keep the supply route open for his army. "The king wants an eye kept on Bruce activities. As his friend, you are least likely to arouse his suspicion."

Robert Bruce returned to Carlisle for a brief visit. He wanted to quench the thirst that Marjory de Warenne had set up in his blood, but his main purpose was to learn where his enemies lay. He'd set a trap with a baggage train of supplies so he could learn where on the route the wagons and packhorses would be raided.

Jory was elated when she saw him and believed she was the sole reason he had returned. They wished to keep their liaison a secret and arranged to meet outside the town gates at twilight. The weeks they had been separated felt like months and the long hours of keeping their eyes and hands from each other throughout the day made their desire mount to such a peak, they could think of nothing but assuaging their passion when they met.

Robert galloped past her, but she soon closed the distance between them and they rode neck and neck into the countryside. They came to a long stone wall that humped across the landscape like a dragon's back. "Hadrian's Wall, built by the Romans a thousand years ago to keep out the barbarian wildmen."

She threw back her head and laughed. "That describes you exactly. The Scots are still uncivilized louts!"

He lifted her down, her hair brushed his face, and he shuddered with longing. He kissed her deeply and groaned as she pressed her breasts close and kissed him back with sensual abandon. "Not here! I want to make love to you in the land I intend to rule." He vaulted to the top of the wall, then reached down to help her. He dropped down on the other side and held up his arms.

Without hesitation, Jory flung herself down, knowing he would catch her. Hand in hand they ran through the tall wild grasses until they came to a stone lookout tower. Inside, Robert laid his cloak down on a thick bed of bracken and, as he'd promised, he completely made up for their last hurried coupling. He undressed her slowly and for the next two hours worshipped her body, lavishing her with kisses from her temples to her toes.

They were reluctant to end the tryst, knowing it could be their last for months. "Do you think you could be happy in Scotland?"

Jory felt apprehension. "You fight for King Edward. You would have to betray him to get the Crown."

"He would betray me without a moment's hesitation." He wrapped her cloak about her shoulders. "I shall become King of Scotland one way or another. It could be as simple as outliving Edward Plantagenet. He grows old. His son is a weakling who could never hold this land, even if his father wins it for him."

Her apprehension passed. Robert believed in his destiny and so must she. This is more than a flirtation…he is courting me! Happiness bubbled inside her even when he escorted her back to the castle and kissed her good-bye. I must not cling to him—he would hate that. She smiled bravely and whispered, "Godspeed!"

It was five months before Jory saw Robert Bruce again. He came into his mother's solar to give them the news. "Baliol has been taken, stripped of his crown, and sent as prisoner to the Tower of London. Edward Plantagenet has called a parliament at Berwick for the last day of August and has ordered every landholder in Scotland to appear there to reaffirm his allegiance to England." He looked at his mother. "I want signed and sealed documents that state officially that Annandale and Carrick have been taken back from Comyn and returned to the Bruces."

"Then the king will appoint another to govern Carlisle," Lady Bruce declared. "I shall return to our English estates. Will you return with me Jory, Alicia?"

"Oh, no, thank you, my lady. I shall go to Berwick. Everyone of importance will be there to celebrate the king's victory."

"My father will be there." Elizabeth de Burgh begged Lady Bruce to let her go with Jory, who immediately promised to take the girl under her wing and appease the Earl of Ulster if he objected.

"What if Lynx de Warenne objects and sends you all packing?"

"Alicia shall be our secret weapon." Jory carefully kept the sarcasm from her voice. "How could Lynx possibly resist her?"

Lynx de Warenne's demeanor was glacial as he stared at Alicia with icy green eyes. "You should not be here! This parliament has been called to conduct important business of the realm."

"It was Jory's idea. She insisted!"

Jory saw his eyes warm as he looked down at her. "Don't be angry, Lynx. History is being made here in Berwick."

His laugh rang out. "As if you give a damn for history! You couldn't resist the victory celebrations. You'll flaunt your beauty before the Scots nobles and dance till dawn every night."

Lynx found them accommodation, making sure that Alicia's chamber was as far from his as possible and that Jory's was close to his own. He brought his sister wine, and found her unpacking. "I have a deal of news to tell you. Six months ago I garrisoned Dumfries Castle. It's in Annandale, about eight miles from the Bruce stronghold of Lochmaben."

Jory's pulse raced. "I shall love living in Scotland."

"I went through a handfast ceremony with a young woman by the name of Jane Leslie. She is the daughter of Dumfries's steward."

"Isn't that an agreement to live together for a year and a day, then decide whether to part or to marry?" Jory puzzled.

"If she conceives a child, I will wed her immediately."

"You'd marry your steward's daughter when you could have any noble lady in the land? You must be madly in love with her!"

"Splendor of God, we hardly know each other. Two days after the ceremony, the king recalled me to the army. That was six months ago—half my year is gone."

"Won't flaunting convention raise eyebrows?"

"To hell with convention. What matters to me is a child. The Leslies are prolific breeders. Jane has nine brothers and sisters. When I told Robert Bruce and John their eyebrows stayed in place. I don't give a damn about the rest. It's my life."

When Alicia finds out she'll run mad!

"The king is about to install our uncle as Governor of Scotland, while he goes to fight in France. I'm sick to death of war. All I want is the domestic peace of Dumfries."

Jory's eyes widened in astonishment. "John is to rule all of Scotland?" What on earth will Robert Bruce think of that?

On the journey to Dumfries, Jory occasionally left the company of Alice Bolton and Elizabeth de Burgh to ride alongside her brother and Robert Bruce. She did not intrude in their conversation, but instead listened to what they had to say.

"John de Warenne earned his governorship, but Edward should not have made Cressingham the treasurer. He should have given it to a Scots noble. It could come back and bite him," Lynx declared.

"He thinks Scotland crushed, but it won't stay conquered. It will rise and fight again," Bruce predicted.

Jory caught her breath. Dear God, it will be just like Wales. The fighting will go on forever!

"Christ, Robert, let's enjoy our castles in peace, at least through the winter. Then in the spring, many of the Scots nobles will accompany Edward across the Channel. They've accepted the king's offer to fight in France in exchange for their freedom."

"Let's see…This is October; there should be peace until spring." He threw Jory a conspiratorial wink. "I'll be happy as long as he keeps my enemy Comyn locked up."

Jory let out a sigh of relief. Spring was five or six months away. She and Robert would have plenty of time to indulge in a long, delicious winter romance.

When the cavalcade neared Dumfries, the Bruce bade them good-bye. "We are for Lochmaben. I'll be back to visit soon."

"Bring your brothers," Lynx invited. "My castle is yours."

"It will be one day," Robert said, laughing.

Both Lynx and Jory knew he was deadly serious.

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