A Year & a Day Read online

  Before long, every man in the castle dangled a naked wench from his knee. When the sex games aroused the men’s bloodlust, ewes were herded into the hall for a sheep-sticking, and by dawn the flagstones ran red.

  The minute Fitz-Waren showed signs of sobering, Alicia lured him to her bed and kept him there for three days. Alicia added her hatred for Lynx de Warenne to Fitz-Waren’s and nurtured it until it was full-blown. While she catered to his sick appetites, she planted seeds of discontent.

  “Fitz, your father is the Governor of Scotland. Where is your pride? You shouldn’t allow yourself to be buried in the wilds, living in this barren pile of rock, among peasants. Your abilities are being wasted here. A man with your talents would be much more suited to the administration of the country. Think of the fortune you could make!”

  “I tried all my life to shine in my father’s eyes, but so long as that fucking Lynx de Warenne was around, my father hardly acknowledged my existence!”

  “It is not right that Lynx de Warenne is your father’s heir. He is not worthy! Why don’t you convince your father that Lynx plots against the crown with Robert Bruce?”

  Fitz’s hand tightened on Alicia’s buttock and he squeezed brutally. “Is it true—does he plot with Bruce?”

  “Does it matter whether it is true or not, so long as John de Warenne believes you?”

  “The old swine wouldn’t believe anything I said against the saintly Lynx.” His eyes narrowed dangerously. “But the king might believe it.”

  Alicia fed his vanity. “What a brilliant idea, Fitz! Obviously there’s more to you than an oversized cock,” she purred. “Discredit Lynx de Warenne and your father might make you his heir!”

  “My father will never make me his heir so long as Lynx de Warenne lives and breathes.”

  Alicia smiled and cupped his testes. “I’m sure a man with your balls could arrange a tragic accident. Really, Fitz, I can’t believe you’ve let him live this long. Lynx hates you so much, I’m sure he’d eliminate you if he ever got the chance.”

  Murder was not a new idea to Fitz-Waren, so the seeds Alicia sowed fell on fertile soil. In the meantime he’d join his father in Edinburgh. The governor must send frequent reports to the king. It would be a simple matter to add a few hints about Lynx de Warenne plotting to gain the crown for his great friend Robert Bruce. Such information would not fall on deaf ears, especially if he reminded Edward that when he commanded Lynx’s Welsh bowmen they threatened to defect to the Scots.

  “Pack your bags, Alicia, we’re leaving this stinking midden tomorrow.”

  * * *

  Christmas at Dumfries had been fairly quiet. A light powdery snow transformed the dales’ huge mountains from purple to white and added to the children’s enjoyment of the holy days. Marjory de Warenne and Elizabeth de Burgh had accepted an invitation to join the Bruce festivities, which went on for days, but Jane stayed snug at Dumfries, not risking the wagon ride to Lochmaben.

  A week after they returned, the women all sat with Jane before a warm fire in her chamber. She had plenty of company these days because her time was drawing close. Her brother’s wife, Judith, along with two needlewomen, were helping her sew swaddling clothes for the baby. Jory and Elizabeth were also plying their needles, even though the results of their labor caused much merriment and laughter among the women.

  Periodically Jane struggled to her feet and put her hand to her back to ease the dull ache that plagued her when she sat too long. As she passed the tall window, she paused and gave a little cry.

  Jory jumped up to aid her. “Is it time?”

  “No, no.” Jane pointed through the window where dark riders were visible against the white landscape. “It’s Lynx!”

  “How can you tell? They’re too far away.”

  “Perhaps it’s the way he sits his horse; I could never mistake him for any other.”

  “Well, it’s about time the callous devil returned. I shall give him a piece of my mind!”

  Jane smiled at Jory. “Was it not you who told me a man always needs a warm welcome? Was it not you who told me a man hates a shrew and a nag above all things?”

  “You actually pay attention to what I say?” Jory teased.

  “I write it down in my journal,” young Elizabeth de Burgh said solemnly.

  Jane had plenty of time to make her way down to the hall. She knew Lynx de Warenne and his knights would see to their own horses before they sought the warmth of the castle.

  The men came into the hall together, stamping their feet and brushing snow from their shoulders. The women were waiting for them. “Welcome home,” they chorused and were rewarded by grins of gratitude.

  Lynx looked from Jory to Jane. “I’m sorry I missed Christmas and wasn’t here to welcome in the New Year.”

  Jory opened her mouth and the others held their breath. “Don’t give it a thought, at least you are in time to celebrate Twelfth Night.” The ladies let out their breath and dissolved into laughter.

  “I fail to see anything amusing, but it feels damn good to be welcomed with laughter.” Lynx took Jane’s hands in his as his glance swept her from head to foot. “Are you well?”

  “Very well, thank you, my lord.”

  “Happy New Year, Jane. I’ve brought a cradle from Edinburgh carved with roses and thistles. Just wait till you see it.”

  “We saw the packhorses loaded down with gifts,” Jory informed him archly, “so we decided to forgive you.”

  “They’re all for Jane … sorry about that, Minx,” he teased, knowing he couldn’t fool his sister for one minute. As he stood there Lynx was filled with an overwhelming sense of anticipation, yet at the same time he couldn’t shake off his feeling of apprehension. Now that he had seen Jane and knew the child would be arriving soon, his feelings heightened in intensity.

  Once again, he was torn, needing to spend the evening in the hall with his men to prepare them for what lay ahead, but wanting to be with Jane and his child. “Will you join me in the hall, lady?”

  Jane blushed and shook her head. “In my advanced condition I would draw every eye. I’ll be more comfortable in my chamber.”

  “Above all things I want you to be comfortable. After I talk with the men, may I join you?” he inquired politely. Lynx wanted to ask her a hundred questions. He clenched his fists at his sides, wanting to put his hands on her belly, knowing a need to hold both her and his child. But he knew that Jane was far too shy and reserved for him to do any of these things while others were present.

  “Come whenever you wish, my lord,” she murmured sweetly and moved toward the stairs.

  Suddenly Lynx didn’t give a damn who was present. He swept her up in his arms and carried her up to her chamber in the Master Tower. He sat her before the fire, drew up a stool for her feet, and put cushions to her back. When he was certain she was comfortable, he dropped a kiss on her head and promised, “I’ll be up as soon as I can.”

  Lynx de Warenne stood on the dais in the vast dining hall and spoke to the men as they were eating and while they were a captive audience. He told them he had pledged their support to the governor and warned them to be prepared to go wherever they were needed.

  He confirmed that the lull in hostilities was due only to the weather and when trouble broke out again, they would be leaving for Edinburgh. He told them flatly that if the hostilities were not stamped out and their enemies were allowed to unite, another full-scale war threatened just down the road.

  Lynx de Warenne wanted his men to be fully prepared for whatever lay ahead of them. He told them to ready their horses, their armor, and their weapons. He informed them they would be responsible for their own supply wagons and listed what they would carry in their baggage train.

  Then he reminded them of Scotland’s treacherous winter conditions, pointing out that they would need extra warm clothing and bedding. Most of his men-at-arms were veterans, many had fought in Wales and knew that a mountain blizzard could mean death by freezing or starvation.


  Once he had prepared them for the worst, he raised a horn of ale and said, “In the meantime, we are going to enjoy a belated Christmas and New Year’s celebration. I hear the Bruce’s festivities lasted three days. Surely we can do better than that? Does anyone here object to a week’s holiday?”

  The response from the men was deafening.

  22

  As Lynx opened her chamber door, Jane gave a great yawn and set aside the tiny nightgown she had been sewing. She struggled to arise and Lynx waved his hand to stop her. “Nay, don’t get up on my account.”

  She smiled softly. “I’m not. I have to move about to relieve the ache in my back.”

  “Then let me help you.” He was beside her instantly. “Just hold out your hand and I’ll pull myself up.” He did as she instructed and Jane levered herself from the chair. “Oh, that made it so much easier than doing it myself. Thank you.”

  They lapsed into an awkward silence, the same gulf separating them as when they parted. Lynx desperately wanted to close the void that had opened between them. For one thing he wanted to touch his child, and for another, he wanted to sleep in the same bed with her in case she needed him. They had fallen into the habit of being scrupulously polite with one another and he searched his mind for a way to toss politeness out the window.

  Lynx wondered how she would react if he said exactly what was on his mind. I want to see you naked. Suddenly, Jane yawned again and he saw that her eyelids were drooping. Lynx leaped across the chasm. “You can hardly keep your eyes open, let me undress you.”

  Jane’s eyelids lifted quickly enough, then her lashes fanned her cheeks as she guessed what he wanted.

  Lynx held out his hand to her and she placed hers in it and allowed him to draw her close. He sat down before the fire and opened his thighs so she could move between them. Then he undid the buttons on each side of her smock and drew it over her head. Her fine lawn chemise clung to her body, outlining her shape. To his discerning eyes she was carrying the child much lower now than the last time he’d seen her.

  As he reached to lift off her shift, Jane modestly turned her back to him. She was naked now, standing between his thighs, yet still he had seen only her back. He reached up to undo her thick plait and her hair tumbled over his hands like flaming silk. Lynx said thickly, “Turn for me, Jane.”

  Very slowly, Jane turned until she faced him. Lynx drew in a swift breath. It was the first time he had ever seen a naked female heavy with child, and he was absolutely enthralled. The curve of her belly was pronounced, yet beautiful in its elliptical shape. Her breasts were full, round, firm, and luscious. The skin of her breasts and belly was so taut and smooth, it looked like cream satin.

  The firelight played across her flesh, turning it from cream, to golden, to flame. Her hair whispered about her shoulders, possessively clinging, curling, covering her delicate collarbone. The outward curve of her precious burden shadowed her mons, making it seem an extremely private and secret place.

  “You are so beautiful, you stop the breath in my throat,” he said reverently.

  Tentatively at first, he brushed his fingertips across her skin, then when he found her flesh so firm and warm to the touch, he became bolder and caressed her mounded belly with loving hands. “I want to sleep with you tonight.”

  She leaned into his hands, loving the feel of them against her skin. “I don’t sleep much these nights, it’s difficult to be comfortable. I lie on my side and cushion the baby with a bolster.”

  “Let me be your bolster; lie against me tonight.”

  She nodded shyly and before he lifted her into bed, Lynx put his lips to her firm, fragrant flesh and covered her with kisses. Then Lynx stripped off his clothes and joined her in the bed, ready to accommodate her any way he could.

  “I need your back,” Jane whispered.

  Obligingly he turned on his side and presented his broad back to her. Jane moved against him, putting her left arm about his chest, then she slipped her left leg between his, so that the baby lay against his back. She felt so secure in the warm nest that soon her eyes closed and her breathing deepened in slumber.

  Lynx, knowing the child was safe between the two people who had created it and loved it, felt a deep contentment steal over him. When he knew that Jane finally slept, he relaxed and fell asleep with the baby rhythmically kicking his back.

  Lynx awoke with a start, not knowing how long he had been asleep. Beside him, Jane was struggling to sit up, while trying to muffle sounds of distress. The chamber was pitch-black, so Lynx swung his legs from the bed and fumbled about the night table until he had the candles lit.

  “Is the baby coming? Stay calm, I’ll get help.” He sprang up and was halfway to the door before her words penetrated his brain.

  “No, please, don’t alert the castle, please, Lynx.”

  He came back to the bed, running a hand through his tawny mane of hair until it stood on end. “I thought your labor had started.”

  Jane put her hand on his arm to keep him at her side. “It has only just begun, it will go on for hours yet. It’s barely midnight, I think; the baby won’t be born before daylight.”

  Lynx looked at her in alarm. “Don’t you want the midwife or one of the other women? Tell me who you want.” “I want only you, for now.”

  Lynx took a deep breath. Whatever Jane wanted at this moment, Jane was going to get. “Sweeting, what do you want me to do?”

  “I want you to stay with me, talk to me, help me make it through the darkest hours of the night until dawn breaks.”

  He picked up her bedgown, spun from soft cream lamb’s wool, and wrapped it about her, then helped her from the bed. He rekindled the fire, pulled up the big chair, and took her onto his lap. Tenderly, he brushed a curl from her temple. “Are you afraid?”

  Jane looked into his green eyes and knew if she admitted the truth, he might panic. Not only was she afraid for herself, but fear for her baby threatened to overwhelm her. But at all costs, Jane knew she must not transfer her fears to Lynx. In her woman’s wisdom, she knew this was a time when they must give each other strength.

  The corners of her mouth went up. “How can I be afraid when you are holding me?”

  He pulled her head against his shoulder and stroked her hair. He felt her body stiffen as a pain knifed into her. When it passed, she whispered, “Talk to me.”

  He said the first thing that came into his head. “Did you read the letter I sent you?” Feeling a need for honesty between them, he admitted, “I tore up the first three that I wrote … they were filled with orders.”

  Jane too wanted no more secrets between them. “I cannot read,” she whispered, “but Jory has promised to teach me. I put your letter beneath my pillow.”

  Lynx laughed, recalling the struggle he’d had with the damn thing. “I didn’t learn how to read until I was nine. My tutors had to beat it into me. All I cared for was horses and swords and battle strategy. Then John de Warenne told me I couldn’t become his squire until I could read. I learned fast enough then.”

  He talked to her for hours, discussing everything from religion to what it felt like before going into battle. Whenever Jane was gripped with an agonizing labor pain, Lynx talked her through it, masking his own fear so he would not communicate it to her. Every hour he rubbed her back, massaged her feet, and brought her endless drinks of water.

  All the while he kept talking. At one point he even found himself wanting to tell her of his first marriage and the difficulties they had encountered, but realized this was neither the time nor the place. Instead, he asked her about names for the baby. If it was a girl, Jane said she wanted to call her Jory, and if it was a boy, they settled on Lincoln, which was his late father’s name, as well as his own.

  Toward morning her contractions were coming closer together and Lynx was relieved when Taffy arrived with a breakfast tray. His young squire took in the situation with his first glance and ran to tell Lady Marjory. Soon the chamber was filled with women. The castl
e midwife arrived and Elizabeth de Burgh brought Molly and Maggie, both experienced midwives in their own right. Judith Leslie appeared and Jane’s sister Mary soon followed. Both of them had given birth in the last few months.

  Lynx became alarmed as Jane’s moans increased. Then she began to pant and her lovely hair became drenched with perspiration. “Can’t you do something for her?” he demanded grimly.

  Molly, a plainspoken Irish woman, did not approve of a man being present at such a time. “Jane is small; your baby enormous. This is what childbirth is like!”

  Lynx appealed to Judith. “Can’t you give her something for the pain?”

  Judith shook her head helplessly. “Only Megotta knows which herbs to use.”

  He saw Jane murmur a request to Jory, who went to the wardrobe and brought back something made of black velvet. Jane clutched it to her possessively and closed her eyes. “This is my bedrobe,” Lynx said, at a loss.

  Jane opened her eyes and murmured, “It brings me comfort.”

  A great lump of guilt rose in his throat as he acknowledged that he was the author of all this misery. He felt Jane grab his hand and knew she needed desperately to communicate something to him. He went on his knees and bent his head close to her bloodless lips.

  “Lynx,” she whispered, “please leave me now … I cannot scream in front of you.”

  He gathered both her hands in his and kissed them, then he got to his feet and strode from the chamber. He did not stop until he was at Megotta’s house.

  When she opened the door at his insistent hammering, Megotta demanded, “What do you want?”

  Lynx searched his mind for a way to get through to her. “I want some common ground between us so we can communicate.”

  “We will never have common ground!”

  “You and I have much in common. We both have a towering pride that rules our lives, but we both care deeply for Jane … Help ease her suffering, Megotta.”

  “She’s giving birth to a Norman; she deserves to suffer!”

  The old crone was so blood-proud, Lynx wanted to strike her. Despite her harsh words, he could see from the expression on her face that she was concerned about Jane. He decided to use cunning to manipulate her. He shrugged his shoulders and made to leave. “We have two Irish midwives in charge; Jane can manage without you.”