The Border Vixen by Bertrice Small Read Free Book Online

Janet Munro awaiting him in the dim corridor, and he told her of what had transpired.
    “Yer a man of property now,” she said in a well-satisfied voice. So many royal mistresses enriched themselves and their families during their tenure. She had not, accepting only what was offered. She knew her parsimonious lover would see her and her child comfortably supported. She was satisfied now to have done something for the cousin she had always liked. He was a good man and deserved a bit of good luck.
    Digging into her skirt pocket, she pulled out a small pouch. “Ye dinna have to tell me the condition of yer purse, Fin. And ye canna travel without coin. The king wanted ye to have this.” Janet thrust the purse at him. “Yer men-at-arms are just paid for the year. Ye may retain them for yer own, but next Michaelmas ye must pay their wages yerself. Ye have a house in the town, gold in yer purse, a servant, and twelve men-at-arms. Ye will nae appear a poor man when ye come to Brae Aisir, and yer the king’s own blood to boot.” Then standing on her toes, she put her arms about him and kissed his cheek. “God bless ye, Cousin.”
    He returned her embrace. “Thank ye, Jan. I know ’tis ye who have brought me this good fortune. Should ye ever need me, ye have but to send for me,” Fingal Stewart said. He suspected the gold in the purse she had given him was from her own small store.
    “Come along now,” she said briskly. “There is food in the hall, and I’ve found a place for ye to lay yer head this night.”
    He followed her and while he ate at a table far below the high board in the king’s hall, he looked about him. The chamber was filled with the mighty. Before she left him to join her lover, Janet Munro pointed out the Earl of Huntly; the young Earl of Glenkirk; Lord Hume, who was now warden of the East March; the provost of Edinburgh, Lord Maxwell; and George Crichton, bishop of Dunkeld, among others. Fingal Stewart watched the panorama played out before him, listening to all the gossip spoken.
    He was, he decided, glad to be a simple man.
    When the evening grew late, Janet Munro came to him again and brought him to the stables where his horse had been taken. “Ye can sleep here, Cousin,” she told him, “but be gone by first light. Yer men will join ye at yer house tomorrow before ye depart.”
    He thanked her a final time, noting she did not reveal aloud to where he was traveling, for she was wary of being overheard. His mission was after all a clandestine one; a preemptive strike to be carried out before anyone could prevent it. He slept several hours before rising in the pale light of the predawn, saddling his stallion, and riding back to Edinburgh. It was a chilly ride beneath the light rain now falling.
    His manservant, Archie, was awaiting him anxiously. There had been no need for him to go with his master the previous day, but he had been concerned when six men-at-arms had arrived with Lady Janet to conduct Lord Stewart to Linlithgow. “My lord!” The relief in Archie’s voice was palpable. “Yer home safe.”
    “Pack up all our personal possessions, what few we have, Archie,” Fingal Stewart said. “I’m to have a wife, and a great responsibility that goes with her.”
    “My lord?” Archie’s plain face was puzzled.
    His master laughed. “Is there something to eat?” he asked.
    “I’m just back from the cookhouse, my lord. Aye, come into yer hall,” his servant said. “I’ve fresh bread, hard-boiled eggs, a rasher of bacon.”
    “Then let’s eat, man, and I’ll tell ye all,” Lord Stewart said.
    They went into the small chamber that served as the house’s hall. The fresh food was already upon the high board, for Archie had taken the chance his master would return sooner rather than later. He quickly served his lord, poured him a small goblet of watered wine, and was then waved to a place by his side. The two men ate silently, quickly, and as the last piece of bacon disappeared