The word “Irish” did the trick. “Irish? They’ll botch the job!” Megotta grabbed her medicinal box and scurried past him in her headlong rush to the castle.
Because of the impending birth, Dumfries’ steward wisely put, the holiday celebrations on hold, and since there would be plenty of time before the castle started rejoicing, he directed the maidservants and young pages to gather holly, ivy, and evergreen boughs to decorate the hall. Then Jock Leslie took pity on Lynx and kept him occupied for the next few hours as best he could.
With the help of David Leslie, who was in charge of the stores, they did an inventory of the food supplies Dumfries had on hand, calculated what Lynx’s men would take in their baggage train, then made a list of what would be left. Then they did the same with fodder for the animals. Though the supplies seemed adequate, Lynx knew it was wise to set aside a healthy reserve that they could call on in an emergency. He arranged to send half a dozen men to Carlisle for the extra provisions.
Lynx realized the time would pass more quickly if he focused his attention on the task at hand, but still he had difficulty separating his mind completely from what was happening in the Master Tower. As he walked to the armory, Lynx thought he heard the wail of a baby, but it was a familiar enough sound at Dumfries and he was soon distracted when his chief armorer admitted to a dilemma.
Apparently there were some weapons missing. The armorer had assumed they were at the forge for cleaning and repairing, but when a tally had been taken, the count had come up short. Lynx made a mental note to query his knights and went himself to the blacksmith forge to question James and Alex Leslie. They pleaded ignorance of any knowledge of the weapons’ whereabouts, so Lynx decided not to interrogate them further until he had spoken to his men-at-arms. But he wasn’t entirely convinced they knew nothing; weapons did not get up and walk of their own volition.
Back in the castle he wandered about aimlessly and was inevitably drawn to the vast kitchens by the savory smells of roasting meat and baking pastries. Oxens and whole stags were spitted and turning over in gigantic, walk-in fireplaces built into the walls. The outer kitchens were filled with his Welshmen, plucking game and skinning hares for tomorrow’s feast.
Suddenly, Lynx felt as if the walls of the castle were closing in on him. The heat of the kitchens was suffocating and he knew he needed a dose of fresh air. He went to the stables, saddled a favorite mount, and headed into the wind. He followed the river Nith to its mouth and rode along the pebbled shore of the Solway Firth where it opened into the sea. The weather was too harsh for any ships to be anchored in the small port today.
The wind was bitter cold, but he welcomed it, breathing in the salt air as if it were the elixir of life. The rocks and shells on the beach were coated with ice, so he did not ride recklessly, but cantered slowly, savoring the lashing waves and the endless screams of the seabirds. Lynx did not want to think, only feel. By becoming one with the windswept slate sky and the roiling pewter sea, whose turbulence was infinitely greater than his own, he achieved a measure of calm within.
When he headed back to Dumfries, the afternoon light was fading from the sky. He gave his horse a good rub-down and an extra measure of oats, then headed for the castle. He expected the first man he met to give him the news that he longed for yet dreaded at the same time, but though the men in the hall greeted him, they gave him no news.
Lynx knew he must go to Jane and face whatever awaited him behind the closed door of her chambers. Splendor of God, where would he find the courage? He looked down at his hands in dismay, realizing he stank of horse. As he climbed the outside stairs to his own tower rooms he wondered if his decision to bathe and change was one of cowardice.
When he opened his chamber door, he found both Thomas and Taffy awaiting him. Expecting the worst, Lynx braced himself.
“Where the blazing hell have ye bin?” Thomas demanded.
“They asked for you two hours ago,” Taffy added, pouring hot water from the cans into the wooden tub.
“The child?” Lynx questioned.
“Bloody women!” Thomas cursed. “Do ye think they’d let us men know anythin’ at all? They’re like a coven of witches, performin’ their rites, guardin’ their secrets. They hold the whip hand when it comes to childbirthin’ and well they know it! At a time like this they close ranks, press their lips together, and look down their superior noses at the male of the species.”
At Lynx’s look of alarm, Taffy tried to reassure him. “We heard a baby cry hours ago.”
Lynx stripped off his clothes and stepped into the water, thankful that the child was at least born, but worried mindless over whether all was well. With Thomas’s aid he threw on his clothes and stuffed a bag of gold coins into his doublet, then with trepidation he opened the door that led down to Jane’s chambers.
The outer room was filled with women and every last one of them had a smug look on her face.
“Congratulations, my lord, you have a fine, great son.”
“Biggest lad I’ve seen in years!”
Lynx’s anxious green eyes sought out his sister’s for confirmation. Jory looked ready to burst with excitement. “Hurry, she’s waiting for you.”
Lynx felt numb. Somehow he managed to cross the room and walk through the connecting archway. Jane was sitting up in bed, absolutely glowing. A smile lit up her face and her eyes were soft with love. She looked radiant. Lynx was stunned. As he reached her side, he said hoarsely, “When I left, I thought you at death’s door.”
“I needed to scream, then I felt a lot better. Thank you for bringing in Megotta, she gave me something that took away a good deal of the pain.” Jane pulled aside a corner of the shawl that covered the baby. “You have a son, my lord.”
Lynx looked down at the child with disbelief. “They told me he was big; he’s the smallest scrap of humanity I’ve ever seen!”
“He is big … big and beautiful and perfect. Say hello to Lincoln de Warenne the Third.”
He pulled aside the shawl so he could get a better look at his son, then he shook his head in wonder, as a smile tugged at the corners of his mouth. The big eyes already had a hint of green and pointed tufts of tawny down covered the baby’s head. “His name may be Lincoln the Third, but he looks like a lynx cub to me.”
“Thank you for letting me have him to myself for the first few hours. I felt so possessive of him, I didn’t know how I was going to share him. But now that you are here, I don’t mind at all. Here, take him.” Jane gently scooped up her son and offered him to his father.
He reached out gingerly, fearing his clumsiness would do the child an injury, but once he held him securely in his arms, Lynx’s natural instincts took over and he vowed no harm would ever come to his child so long as he drew breath.
“You must be dying to show him off. Take him down to the hall and let the men see him,” Jane said proudly.
But suddenly Lynx understood what Jane meant when she had said she was possessive of him and didn’t want to share him. He also better understood the women in the outer room wanting to keep and savor their secret. Just for a while, just for tonight, he didn’t want to share his son with the castle. Lynx’s entire universe encompassed this chamber alone and he wanted to remain here with his child and its mother, where they could be private and undisturbed and shut out the world.
Lynx handed the baby back to Jane. “Tomorrow will be soon enough.” He entered the outer room, sincerely thanked all the women for their help, and gave every one of them a piece of gold. “We want to be alone now,” he explained firmly, “but I’d like the pleasure of telling the men myself, ladies.”
The women filed out, more than happy to keep the secret of the child’s gender from the inquisitive men of Dumfries, who normally ruled the roost.
When Lynx returned, he did not take his child from its mother’s arms, but slipped down on his knees beside the bed and stroked the backs of his fingers across the tawny tufts. “Jane, I want to thank you from the bottom of my hear
t for giving me a son.”
The corners of her mouth lifted with delight. “Nay, I want to thank you for giving me a son. I couldn’t have done it without you,” she teased.
Her words made him remember how the child had been conceived and he felt humbled. Jane had given him this child out of simple duty to her lord, and Lynx knew he would be eternally indebted to her. “Jane, you simply have no idea how grateful I am to you. I want to reward you. Ask anything of me and if it is within my power, I will gift you with it.”
Jane wanted only one thing from Lynx de Warenne; she wanted his love. And suddenly she didn’t think it was an impossibility. The void that stretched between them had narrowed during the hours of her labor. He had tended her with loving hands and surely that was the first step toward tending her with a loving heart. Out of gratitude she knew he was willing to marry her, but she wanted more than his gratitude.
Jane knew he was so joyous at becoming a father, and so well pleased with the child, that he would want more children. She sensed that his next words would be about marriage, because Lynx felt it was his duty to make her his wife. She spoke up quickly. “There is one thing I would like, if you will indulge me.”
Briefly he pictured an expensive jewel. “Just name it.”
“I know you are going to speak of marriage again … would you let me pick the time?”
He stared at her in disbelief. Tomorrow he’d had every intention of sending for the priest and overruling her objections. But she had anticipated him and cleverly held him in check. His green eyes flashed their annoyance. The little minx was going to pit her will against his!
His son opened his mouth and began to scream. He watched Jane murmur a soothing word of love and lift the child to her breast. Lynx was mesmerized as he saw the little mouth fasten to her nipple and his son’s fists clench and unclench on her breast as he took undisputed possession of it.
Lynx’s face softened as the intimate picture touched his heart. He smiled at Jane and murmured, “I can refuse you nothing.”
23
Not only the castle, but the entire village of Dumfries decided to celebrate the birth of Lynx de Warenne’s heir. The moment that the news leaked out the next day, it flowed through the wide, friendly streets of the town until it reached the Franciscan monastery on the north bank of the river Nith. A great peal of bells rang out and didn’t stop for a full twenty-four hours.
A courier on a fast horse was dispatched to the Bruce at Lochmaben asking him to stand as godfather to Lincoln de Warenne the Third, and before evening descended, Robert, Nigel, and Alexander, as well as their brother Thomas, who had ridden over from their castle of Caerlaverock, headed down the Annandale Valley toward Dumfries with packhorses piled high with presents.
Jane was up and about, glowing with health and happiness and feeling light as thistledown. She refused to let her baby out of her sight, but the ladies insisted she could not carry him herself until she was stronger, and vied with each other for the privilege of toting him about.
With Jory and Elizabeth, to say nothing of Molly and Maggie, passing his son around possessively, Lynx hardly got a chance to look at him, let alone hold him. So he sought out Jock Leslie to ask him to recommend a competent nursemaid to help Jane and take charge at the same time.
“I prefer a mature woman over a young girl, a no-nonsense, capable nursemaid who will put her foot down when it’s necessary.”
“I think Grace Murray would be yer best choice, my lord. She’s in charge of the castle maids and knows how to knock their heads together when they misbehave.”
“Send this Grace Murray to me and I’ll have a word with her; she sounds ideal,” Lynx decided.
Jock cleared his throat in preparation for what he was about to say. Lord de Warenne had always dealt fairly with him and Jock plucked up his courage to broach what might be a delicate subject. “I expect ye’ll be planning brothers an’ sisters fer yer son, my lord?”
Lynx grinned. “I’m sure as hell not going to stop, now that I’ve sired one.”
“When ye handfasted Jane, there was a promise of marriage—”
As the words hung in the air, Lynx’s piercing glance met his steward’s and held. “I have been trying to marry your daughter since the day I returned three months back and saw my child ripening in her belly. On my honor, it is Jane who is dragging her feet over the marriage, not I.”
Jock was outraged. “I’ll soon settle her nonsense, my lord; make yer arrangements with the priest.”
“No, Jock. I don’t want her pressured in any way. I’ve given Jane my word that she can decide when we’ll marry.”
Jock looked at Lord de Warenne as if he had lost his mind. “Beggin’ yer pardon, my lord, but ye’ve never fallen into the trap of lettin’ a woman have her own way?”
“She gives me little choice, she’s refused me outright on several occasions.”
“Did ye not beat her?” Jock demanded.
A ludicrous picture of a muscular six-foot man beating a delicate girl of less than a hundred pounds flashed across his mind. “Of course I didn’t beat her.”
“There’s yer mistake! A firm hand applied to the bottom on a nightly basis will bring total obedience; I guarantee it, my lord.”
“Thank you for your advice, Jock,” Lynx said solemnly. He was astounded at the ignorance of most men when it came to women. A nightly beating would not guarantee total obedience; more likely it would guarantee infidelity or a cup of hemlock.
Lynx spoke with Grace Murray, then satisfied with her capable manner, appointed her his son’s nursemaid, starting tomorrow when the festivities would begin. Then he went up to Jane’s chamber to inform her of his decision, sensing that he would meet with resistance.
Jane was nursing the baby, while Jory fussed over the temperature of the baby’s bathwater and Elizabeth de Burgh decorated the carved cradle with blue and white ribbons.
His blunt tongue almost ordered the women to leave, then a more subtle idea occurred to him. “Ladies, I need your help. The Bruces have just arrived en masse and there is no one in the hall to welcome them. Would you be so kind?” Lynx saw the pretty blush that suffused Elizabeth’s cheeks and knew he had dangled the perfect bait to lure her downstairs. He did not notice the green flame ignite in Jory’s eyes, but was grateful when she followed Elizabeth from the chamber.
Lynx secured the door against all intruders and came back. He could not take his eyes from the enchanting picture of his son suckling his mother’s breast. “Are you exhausted?”
“No, no, I’m too filled with happiness, there’s no room left for exhaustion.”
If only she’d admit to being tired, his next words would be easier. “I’ve appointed Grace Murray as the baby’s nursemaid. She’s a capable woman who will give you all the help you need.”
Jane’s face fell as she clasped her son closer to her breast. “I don’t want any help. I want to look after him myself!”
His hand reached out to lift a silken curl from her shoulder. “Sweeting, you may not want help, but you need help. The young pup kept you up all night. How long can you keep that up? Jane, you’ll still be in charge. Grace will take her orders from you. When you’ve tended him all day, doesn’t it make sense that Grace look after him through the night so you can rest? She can share this room with him.”
“But he needs feeding in the night,” Jane explained.
“Then we’ll get a wet nurse. God’s teeth, you can’t nurse him day and night.”
Jane glared at him defiantly. “I will and I shall!”
He looked at her in disbelief, yet he felt admiration for her. “You shout those bloody words at me like a battle cry. Lady, are you not willing to compromise?”
They stared at each other for a full minute, but this time Jane refused to lower her eyes from his. Then the corners of her mouth went up. “You are conceding a great deal, Lord de Warenne, to compromise with a woman. I agree to have Grace as his nursemaid, I even agree to let her share his
chamber, but day or night he will be brought to me to be fed at my breast and no other.”
Since he had accomplished what he came for, Lynx acceded to her declaration graciously. “It shall be as you wish.” A teasing light came into his eyes as he brushed back a red-gold tendril from her temple. “This stubborn streak of willfulness you have developed is damned attractive. I like nothing better than a challenge.”
She ran the tip of her tongue over pink lips. “You thought the harmless little kitten you handfasted had no claws.”
Watching that tongue, Lynx grew hard. His son’s eyes closed in contented sleep and a bright nipple popped from his mouth. Lynx’s cock began to pulse.
“I am no harmless kitten, I am the mother of a lynx cub. I not only spit and scratch, I bite too!”
A blazing hot desire spread through his veins until he could feel his need pounding from his throat to the soles of his feet. His groin was so engorged, it felt as if it might burst. It was the very first time Lynx had ever felt lust for this woman. His woman, he reminded himself. She was doubly desirable because she was forbidden to him for a few days yet.
With an iron will he tried to banish the lust that raged within, but he found it impossible. The best he could do was bank the fires in his blood so that he did not lose control. If he could keep his rampant sexuality caged for two or three more nights, he would be able to unleash it and let it run wild. He tore his glance from her lush breasts and forced his mind from erotic thoughts.
“I know the hour is advanced, but would you consider having a late supper with the Braces and letting them have a glimpse of our son before you retire?”
Jane’s dimples came out of hiding. “I can’t wait to show Robert my beautiful little treasure.”
Lynx’s shaft bucked again as her words provoked his wicked thoughts. Not until she handed him his sleeping son did his blood begin to cool.