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Authors: Helen Susan Swift

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Mother shook her head. 'We are all Tweedies now,' she said softly, and stood up.

'I wish to speak!' Mother said, and silence fell on the gathering as men and the few women waited to hear what the Lady Lethan had to say about her husband's bastard son.

'George!' Mother said loudly. 'Welcome to our surname, our valley and our family!'

She sat down again as the great hall erupted in a huge roar of approval and probably relief. All knew that my mother was a formidable woman, well able to take care of herself verbally and physically. Now they had heard her formally accept the issue of Father's pre-marital loins into her household there was no reason for any other to take issue. George Graham, the Yorling, was accepted as part of the Tweedies of Lethan Valley.

'Now the Veitches will pay the reckoning in full, and we shall sign the deeds of their repentance in red ink and with a sharp quill!' Father said as the gathering roared approval of bloodshed, violence and death. I slipped away with my head confused and my eyes stinging with hot tears. I was not sure why.

Chapter Twelve

LETHAN VALLEY
OCTOBER 1585

'So I have a brother,' I did not soften my words with a preamble.

Father looked up from the table where he was eating, with half a leg of reived mutton before him and a flagon of good claret. 'You have a brother,' he confirmed. I could tell by the narrowing of his eyes that he expected me to lay blame on him. I could not do that after my experience with Hugh.

'I always wanted a brother,' I said, and saw Father's expression soften.

'We all need kin,' he said.

I nodded at that. 'I think there is more you need to tell me, Father.' I slid onto a bench opposite him, folding my skirt neatly beneath me. 'Such as why he rode into the valley and abducted me.'

Father could never look innocent. His attempt was ludicrous, with spreading hands and wide open eyes. 'Why should I know that?'

'Because you know everything that happens in this valley,' I held his gaze. 'And you knew he was your son.' I tapped my fingers on the table, copying Mother's gestures when she insisted on a reply. 'You knew he was coming, Father and you allowed him to ride free. I noticed that there were no injuries in the fighting and only one young lad was taken captive.'

Father's smile was wide and as reassuring as a cat's gape at a mouse-hole. 'Yes, Jeannie, I arranged the Yorling's attack.'

'Why?' I said. 'And none of your lies, Father. I am in no mood to brook more falsehoods.'

'Oh?' Father raised his eyebrows. 'The fox cub threatens the old wolf.' His laugh was loud and equally perfidious. 'I arranged that raid to capture you, of course, my daughter. Oh you were never in any danger. George would not have hurt a hair on your cossetted little head.'

'So why then?' I asked.

'Why do you think?' Father asked. 'You have an understanding with Robert of Whitecleuch. The two of have promised all sorts of foolish things ever since childhood.'

I had thought that Father did not care one way or another whether I married Robert. Now I looked into his devious face and realised that he had been watching everything all the time and hatching his own plans for my future. 'Carry on, Father,' I said.

'Robert of Whitecleuch will not be a good leader for Tweedies,' Father said seriously. 'He is slow, ponderous and cannot wield a sword. When I asked the Yorling to take you away, I had one of two things in mind.'

I am not sure how I felt when I heard that Father had arranged that I should be abducted by a group of men I had never met in my life. 'What were these two things, Father?'

'Either Robert would finally prove himself a man,' Father said, 'Or he would make such a fool of himself that you would finally see how useless he was for you and the valley, and you would choose somebody more suitable.'

'So the entire raid was false?' I said.

'It was all false,' Father said.

'Robert did not know that,' I said. 'He might have killed the Yorling, my brother George.'

Father's great laugh boomed out around his chamber. 'Robert could not hurt the Yorling if he tried for a month!' The idea seemed to amuse him so much that I felt my anger built up.

'Robert's not that bad,' I said. 'At least he came to look for me.'

Father's laughter ended abruptly. 'If your mother had been taken by a raiding party, I would be in the saddle and raising a hot trod within half an hour. Robert did not do that.'

I said nothing. I remembered how tenderly the Yorling had treated me in his ride away from the Lethan Valley, and how he had camped high on the hill with few precautions. At the time I had thought it bold; now I saw that he was not hiding from Robert but allowing him the opportunity to track and capture me back, if he so willed.

'The Yorling tells me that while he awaited Robert's trod, Wild Will came instead.' Father said.

'That is how it happened,' I agreed. I remembered that professional onslaught by the Armstrongs and the ease with which they had overcome the Yorling's men. I had not realised, then, that the Yorling had been inviting such an attack and so their resistance had been slight.

'The Yorling lost one man killed and another badly hurt in that encounter,' Father said, 'and spent the next two days tracking Wild Will to Tarras. He knew he could not defeat the Armstrongs in their own stronghold so came back for me and the men of Lethan.'

I nodded. 'My Robert was with you,' I reminded.

'He was,' Father said. 'He came to me for help when he should have been on the trail of the Yorling and then on that of Wild Will.'

Despite myself I shuddered at the thought of my Robert tracking the Armstrongs through Liddesdale and the desolation of the Tarras Moss.

'At least he came looking for me,' I defended him.

Father raised his eyebrows and said nothing to that.

'Are you still intent on marrying him?' Father asked.

'I am,' I said, stoutly. Father knew about my visions. I had no need to remind him.

'I thought so,' Father said. 'That is the main reason I want to remove any threat from the Veitches. With Robert Ferguson as the head of the surname, the Tweedies will be every man's prey.' He lifted the tankard of ale that stood beside his right hand. 'In other words, Jeannie, although you do not approve of what I am doing, I am ensuring your safety, and that of my people.' He took a deep draught of the ale and put the tankard down with a thump. 'Mostly yours.'

I knew I should thank him. Instead I could only say, 'there could be a lot of people killed.'

'They will only be Veitch corpses, if the men do as they are told,' Father said, 'and if your fool Robert does not fall off his horse or cut his finger on his sword or allow a ten year old child to unhorse him.'

It hurt to hear Father's low opinion of Robert. It hurt more when I knew he was only slightly exaggerating. I knew that Robert had so many good points yet I could never convince others to see them. One day though Robert would ride over a ridge and save me; he would prove himself as bold a hero as any man in the Borders.

'I am not inclined to let this thing wait,' Father said. 'Word will reach the Veitches that the Yorling and his men have arrived in the valley. They will guess that we are going to attack them and will prepare, so we must strike soon.'

I thought of Hugh, and knew I did not want him hurt. 'How soon, father?'

'In a day or so,' Father said.

I felt fear for Hugh, and fear for Robert facing the Veitches. If they were all of Hugh's standard then Robert, and Father, would be facing a redoubtable foe.

'Now,' Father said, 'I have things to work out and arrangements to make. If you have nothing to do then I am sure your mother can find something for you.'

'I am sure she would,' I said, 'and that sounds a very good reason to avoid her company.'

Father's smile was genuine this time. 'Go and find your man,' he said. 'Maybe you can get some sense into him. God knows that nobody else has been able to. I have something to tidy up.'

Robert was in the stables, helping a groom rub down his horse. As was common in the Lethan Valley, the men rode stallions or geldings and left the mares for women.

'You can go now,' I dismissed the groom. 'We won't be needing you for the next hour or so.'

Handed his curry-comb to Robert, the groom left at once.

'They are nearly as scared of you as they are of your mother,' Robert said.

'I am not scary,' I said.

'You can be,' Robert knelt down to inspect the legs of his horse. He glanced at me over his shoulder. 'The servants are scared of you.'

I knelt at his side. 'Are you?'

'I'm not scared of anything!' There was that boastful Robert again, so false and so different from the caring Robert looking after his horse. I much preferred his caring side.

I put a hand on his shoulder. 'Thank you for coming to search for me,' I said.

He shied away from my touch before relaxing. 'I'm glad you are unhurt,' he said. 'You said that you escaped with a man. Who was he?'

'Just another prisoner of the Armstrongs,' I dismissed Hugh with a casual shrug. 'We got out together. Why did you not want to talk to me in the great hall?'

Robert looked back at his horse. 'I was with the lads,' he said. 'I did not want to look soft by talking to a girl. They laugh at me.'

I took a deep breath, fighting my temper. That was the sort of reply I would have expected when he was twelve years old. 'That was an honest answer,' I said. 'I'll remember not to approach you when you are with them.'

I resolved to talk to his friends one by one. If the servants thought I was scary then so help me I would put the fear of God into these little boys who sought to keep Robert and me apart by mocking him. That was for the future.

'Robert,' I inched closer so my thigh touched his. He continued to examine the horse. 'Robert!'

He looked around.

'Can you leave that blasted horse for a moment and talk to me?'

Robert looked comically surprised. 'I am talking to you, Jeannie. Do you think this tendon is a trifle weak? I have to ride him soon and I don't want to damage him.'

'No, you don't want a lame horse,' I agreed. 'I will leave you two alone together.'

I walked away and sent the groom back in. Once again I felt like crying. I had known Robert all my life, my visions told me that he would be my man and yet I seemed unable to communicate with him. We remained friends and nothing else. I felt as if I was running out of time.

Chapter Thirteen

LETHAN VALLEY
OCTOBER 1585

My mother, of course, noticed the difference in me since I returned from Tarras Moss. She allowed me a week to think things over, a week in which we lost three cattle to a Veitch raid and the Yorling got to know the men of the valley. A young servant gave me the message that Mother wished to see me.

'Her Ladyship was insistent,' the girl said.

'She always is,' I told her, sighed, and made my way to my mother's chamber.

Mother sat by her spinning wheel. She looked deep into my eyes. 'You are a woman now,' she said.

About to deny it, I knew that would be pointless. 'I am,' I said.

'So now you know,' Mother bent her head to her spinning. 'Was it the Tweedie Passion?'

'It was all of that,' I said. I expected her to ask who I had bedded, but she did not.

'You will be more ready to bed Robert Ferguson then,' Mother said, without looking up. She worked the foot pedal so the spinning wheel hummed rhythmically.

'I may not be able to do that,' I said quietly. 'Or not unless he is a very forgiving man.'

Mother looked up with a strange, crooked smile on her face. 'Oh? And why is that, pray?'

'I am no longer whole,' I said. 'As we just discussed. I am no longer virginal.'

The expression on Mother's face did not alter. 'Do you think that Robert has never known a woman? He is twenty-one and the heir of Whitecleuch.'

'Robert would never betray me in that way,' I began hotly until I realised what mother had said. 'He is the younger son; he is not heir. That is one of the reasons that you do not think him a fit husband for me.'

'No Ferguson of Whitecleuch is a fit husband for a Tweedie of Lethan,' Mother said, 'be he heir or be he bastard; you are of superior blood and bearing. That is a fact. However the situation changed last night. Robert's brother had a bit of an accident.'

'What happened?' I asked.

'He died.' Mother said flatly. He was up at the summer shieling bringing in the cattle and he did not come home. The Fergusons found his body this morning at the foot of Posso Craig; it looks as if he lost his footing at night and fell over the craigs. Dead as a three day old corpse, which means that Robert is now heir.'

I knew Posso Craigs well, a semi-circular hill with one end sheered away in vicious cliffs. It was an accident inviting a victim.

'Now that Robert is heir to Whitecleuch,' Mother said without expressing any regret for the passing of his unfortunate brother, 'the situation here, as I said, has altered. Even as heir to the lands, Robert is a poor choice for a husband. However, given that his lands abut ours and are at the bottom of the valley, it would be advantageous if you and Robert were wed.'

I stared at her. This was my Mother, cold bloodedly telling me that although Robert was not a suitable man she would favour our marriage to blend our lands together. Of course as the senior house, Robert would become Robert of Lethan; he may even take the name of Tweedie, in fact I would insist on that, but we all knew who the real power would be.

Mother would be in control of the entire Lethan Valley from the headwaters at Lethanhead to Lethanfoot where the Lethan Water drained into the mighty Tweed, and from where the Spirit of the Tweed had emerged to woo my distant ancestor. That was a story I no longer found unbelievable.

'I remember you telling me that he would not be a suitable husband until he proved himself as a man,' I said, with more heat than I intended.

'Situations change, Jeannie.' When Mother glanced up from her spinning her eyes were every bit as hard as Wild Will's had been. 'You had no interest in Robert's older brother. He was going to marry the daughter of a burgess in Peebles, a man who did not belong to any significant family; a nobody. We would have controlled him without any effort. Now that Robert is heir to the land, anything could happen.'

I sat down on a creepie stool, the three legged stools that we used where we did not have chairs. 'I have long known I would marry Robert; if he will still have me.'

Mother sighed and looked up from her spinning. 'You bedded a man,' she said. 'You are a Tweedie woman. The wonder is that you waited so long.'

'There was nobody I desired so much,' I said.

She faced me. 'Now you have tasted that desire, you will never lose it. It will come on you when you least expect it and you will have to slake it.'

As I thought of Hugh and the desire that Mother spoke of increased. I felt my heart beat increase and the strangest prickling sensation in a very personal place. 'Yes, Mother.'

'That may not always be with Robert.' Mother said calmly. 'A husband is for duty; pleasure you may have to seek otherwise.'

I felt my mouth open in astonishment. My mother was advising me to commit adultery.

'It is the Tweedie way,' Mother said without any expression on her face.

'Did you…?' I could not complete the question.

'I am not a Tweedie by blood,' Mother said.

'Father?'

'He is all Tweedie.' Mother said flatly.

'Oh.' For the first time in my life I reached out to offer support to my mother. I squeezed her arm. 'I did not realise.'

'Well, now you do,' Mother said. 'There are many little Tweedie bastards running about the Borders. You have met at least one of them.'

For one terrible, horrible moment I thought of Hugh, until I remembered that he had been a Veitch. However lusty he may be, Father would not have bedded one of our enemies. 'The Yorling,' I said.

'The Yorling,' Mother said. 'There are others. More importantly, I want you to make sure you wed Robert.'

'He will know I am not whole…' I gestured down at myself as I blurted out the stark physical fact.

Mother snorted. 'For God's sake woman! Is that all that's bothering you? Half the women in the Borders are not entire when they are wed, without ever having known a man.'

'How?' I felt hope rise inside me.

'You ride astride your horse,' Mother said flatly. 'Think what that could do to you.'

'Oh?' I looked at Mother as if I had never seen her before, which in a way I had not. I had known the mother but not the woman. 'Mother: are you saying I should not tell my husband the truth?'

'You tell your husband what he needs to know and what he already knows,' Mother said. 'You tell him nothing that he can use to your disadvantage.'

'Yes, Mother.' My mother had run my father's tower and lands all my life without ever, to my knowledge betraying his trust. Her wisdom was not to be ignored. Yet I did not wish to live a lie with a man who I trusted and who would trust me.

'You are worried about not being honest with Robert,' Mother said.

'I am,' I said.

'Then let me tell you that your best friend Kate Hunnam has been making sheep's eyes at your good friend Robert for the past few months.'

I smiled. I knew Robert better than Mother did. 'That won't matter to Robert. He is not very interested in women.'

Mother raised her eyebrows. 'He may not be very interested in you, Jeannie. He seems to be very interested in Kate.'

I felt myself stiffen. 'Are you sure Mother?' I knew she would not tell me if she was not sure.

I cannot write how I felt. I can only write what I did. I turned on my heel and left Cardrona Tower with more anger in me than I had ever felt before. It was not the same feeling as I had with Hugh. That anger had been tempered and controlled, however passionate my love-making had been. This new anger was all-consuming. If Mother was right, then Robert and Kate had been at least contemplating something behind my back for some time. My mistake with Hugh was sudden; theirs was calculated.

I grabbed Kailzie who had served me so well in escaping from Liddesdale, did not bother with saddle, bridle or stirrups and ordered the gatekeeper to open for me in a snarl that he did not recognise as coming from the laughing girl he knew as Jeannie. I remember that mad dash down the Lethan Valley with the little cottages all getting ready for the night and the river flowing soft and sweet at my side as I whipped that poor horse along. There was an owl calling although I did not hear its mate, and I paid no heed to the surprised but friendly greetings of the people I knew so well. My mind was so filled with the thoughts of betrayal, of my best friend Kate with my chosen man Robert that I nearly forgot my own treachery as I rode, mouth open and hair flowing behind me.

Whitecleuch Tower is situated on a small knoll, a knowe as we term it, not far from the opening of the valley. It is set above the floodplain of the river with very solid stone walls and a stout barmekin.

The gatekeeper knew me well enough not to challenge my entry even at that time, and I jumped off Kailzie, ordered a surprised and sleepy servant to care for him and was soon bounding up the stairs two at a time to the great hall. It was empty except for two young servants sharing the straw with a few dogs, and one scared kitchen maid with her sweetheart crouched in a corner

'Where is the young master,' I demanded, more imperiously than I had ever been in my life. I had not realised that my mother's blood was strong within me. I may be a Tweedie but I was also my mother's daughter. 'Where is Robert Ferguson?'

The servants cowered away from the look in my eyes, or possibly from the horse whip I forgot that I still carried.

'Upstairs My Lady,' the kitchen maid quavered, as her sweetheart put a protective arm around her. Good man, that.

'In his quarters?' I asked.

'Yes, My Lady,' the kitchen maid said and added bravely, 'I think it best if you did not enter unannounced…'

'I do not care what you think best,' I told her brutally as I stormed out of the hall and on to the turnpike staircase. Now Whitecleuch is an older tower than Cardrona, with a square central keep much damaged and repaired by war. It was built in the very old days before King Edward Longshanks of England began the series of wars between his nation and ours that has so ravaged the Borderlands. As it predates these savage wars, the walls are less defensive and the windows wider, so allowing more light inside. I ran up the worn stairs with barely a pause, and nearly ran into Archie Ferguson himself.

'Jeannie!' he held a flaming torch up high and eyed me with something like alarm, as well he might: a raggle-headed, angry, whip-carrying woman running up the turnpike of his home. 'What are you doing here?'

I took a deep breath to calm my pounding heart. 'I am coming to see Robert,' I said as calmly as I could.

'At this hour? And dressed so?' He seemed astonished.

I realised that I was wearing my indoor clothes. In those days, you see, we did not stand so much on formality in the Borderlands. I wore little more than a shift, a pair of boots and a shawl. I had not intended to receive visitors and had certainly not expected to be riding down to Whitecleuch in the dimming of the day. 'It was not planned,' I said.

'I don't believe he is at home,' Archie Ferguson said. He was ayeways a bad liar.

'I do believe he is,' I said, 'for I can hear his voice.' That was also a lie of course but I was frantic to see him and put the question to him. 'We are to be wed,' I said foolishly.

As you know, a turnpike staircase, the circular stairs that wind around a central pillar, do not allow much space for manoeuvre, so it was difficult for two people to pass each other. All the same I pushed forward, squeezing past the grey-bearded old man so that he lost his footing and tumbled down the stairs. I heard him fall, debated with myself whether I should spend the time ensuring he was uninjured, heard him roaring and told myself that a man who made that much noise could not be badly hurt and ran on.

I knew Whitecleuch well of course, as Robert and I had spent our childhood in and out of each other's homes, so I had no difficulty in reaching Robert's chamber. He had shared the topmost turret room with his brother, who was now so sadly departed, and the door was closed and the internal latch down. However, Robert and I had long perfected the trick of inserting a finger under the opening of the latch and hooking it open. I did so now, thrust open the door and pushed it open as hard as I could.

'Robert Ferguson!' I bellowed, waving my whip, 'what is this nonsense I hear about you and Kate making sheep's eyes at each other…' and then I stopped.

My Mother had been entirely correct. Robert and Kate had been making game of me, with more than looks, poetry and coy imaginings. When I walked in they were heavily engaged in playing the two-backed beast on Robert's bed. That was why they had not heard the racket I had made in the great hall and the noises old Archie had made as he thundered down the turnpike with such roarings and lamentations.

I had a vision of Kate lying underneath with her head back and her wondrous blonde hair fanned out across the pillow, her eyes closed in ecstasy and her legs and arms splayed out as far as they could splay. Robert lay on top with his parts deep within her and his naked back and legs before me.

It was pure instinct that made me act as I did next. I am well aware that the polite thing to do in this new refined age would be to make my apologies and gracefully withdraw, but we were not in a polite age. We were on the old Border where people acted as they saw fit, where insults were met by instant revenge and one wrong word could start a feud that lasted generations. I saw the man that was destined to be my husband lying with the woman that was my best friend and I did not stop to think. Lifting my whip, I landed the lash across his shoulders with all the power I could muster, and I had been brought up with physical labour since I was old enough to walk. I lambasted that man, landing my whip across his back and shoulders half a dozen times as he lay and yelled. I saw the residue of the mark the Yorling had left across his white behind and I added to it with gusto, all the time yelling my hurt and my anger at such a rank betrayal.

To say I was angry would be an understatement. To say that I felt betrayed after our recent conversation in the stables would be partly accurate. There was no doubt that I had the Tweedie Passion; now I knew that it could come out in more than one way. I had chosen Robert and this Judas kiss was more than I could stomach. I will add that there was also a powerful feeling of satisfaction as I saw him writhe and heard him yell under my lash.

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