The Border Lord's Bride by Bertrice Small

Author:Bertrice Small [Small, Bertrice]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2012-10-12T10:41:36+00:00

Chapter 10

T hey came to Duffdour under the cover of darkness. Hays and Elliots. Kerrs, Stewarts, Hepburns, and Bruces. There were a few Scotts, and several Fergusons from just west of Dumfries who had heard there was to be a fight with the English and, having time between the haying and the harvest, had come along to help. They showed neither clan badges nor plaids, and Ian Johnston was very visible by his absence.

The laird of Johnston‘s Keep had sent word that his wife was sick, and he could not leave her side. He had sent two messengers out to warn Lord Colby of the border lords‘ plans, but each of these men had been taken and killed by Bruce clansmen. When the first of his men had not returned, the traitor considered that Lord Colby might have had him remain at his keep, but, concerned, he had sent a second man. When he had not come back, Ian Johnston began to

consider that his treasonous behavior might be known, and he was afraid.

Knowing what her man had been doing, Mary Johnston realized that sooner than later border justice would be meted out to her husband. She had tried to flee to her brother‘s house, but had been caught. Angry at what he considered his wife‘s lack of loyalty, and now in terrible fear of his own life, Ian Johnston had beaten his wife so severely that she was near death.

At Duffdour, Ellen had been preparing for a week for her guests. Duncan and his men had spent a great deal of time hunting in order to bring in enough game to feed their many guests. The cook and her helpers had baked enough meat pies in the past two days to feed a small army, and the pies were stored away in a cool, dry place safe from vermin. The first of the clansmen arriving in the dusk of the late twilight were greeted by the fragrance of roasting meat, and their pretty hostess. They had not met Ellen MacArthur Armstrong before, and were charmed by the laird of Duffdour‘s pretty wife. And seeing how he doted upon her, even the most flirtatious among the border lords minded his manners. They were here to fight the English, and not one another.

Soon the hall was filled to overflowing, the men at the trestles below the high board enjoying a hearty meal of roasted venison, cold meat pies, a pottage of vegetables, bread, and cheese.

Ellen‘s well-trained servants saw that the cups were never empty of ale. And at the high board the laird and his fellow lordlings sat talking. It was agreed that they would ride at moonrise, crossing the border and doing as much damage as they could that night before returning to Duffdour.

―What about Sir Roger‘s fine house?‖ Andrew Hay asked.

―Devil‘s Glen can be reached only by riding through a narrow passage,‖ Conal Bruce said. ―It‘s too dangerous for such a large group. Duncan and I raided it with a small force once to get back my cattle and some village lasses.

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