The Border Vixen by Bertrice Small Read Free Book Online Page B

they go,” Lord Stewart said. “And you will pay her from your ten percent for I have nae a doubt that you will also collect ten percent from your clients as well.”
    The house agent’s eyebrows jumped with his surprise.
    “How much will you charge per day?” Fingal asked, and when Boyle told him, he nodded. “Do not consider you can cheat me by paying me for four days when the guest remains seven,” he warned. “I have eyes that will watch ye. I will expect a proper rendering of my account every other month. You may deliver it to Kira’s bank in Goldsmith’s Lane. They will be informed to expect it, and will advise me if they do not get it, Master Boyle. If this is satisfactory to you, I will allow you this rental.”
    “Will ye be visiting the town yerself, my lord?” the agent asked.
    “I will send to you when I am and will expect the house available to me when I come,” Lord Stewart said sternly. “I will attempt to give you enough notice that your clients not be inconvenienced by my coming. Is this agreeable to you?”
    Master Boyle nodded. “Quite, my lord.”
    Both men stood up and shook hands.
    “I am departing today,” Lord Stewart said. “Archie will give ye a key.”
    The house agent bowed and exited the hall where Archie was waiting for him. The manservant handed Master Boyle two keys on an iron ring. “Front door, and door from the kitchen into the garden,” he said. He opened the front door, ushering the man out.
    Master Boyle hurried out, and down the street to the Royal Mile, stepping aside as he came to the congested wider way to allow a party of mounted men-at-arms to enter the small lane. He stopped, watching to see what business they could possibly have on such an undistinguished lane. His bushy eyebrows jumped as they halted before Lord Stewart’s stone house. He peered down the dim street to see the badges on their jacket arms. The bushy eyebrows jumped again as he recognized the king’s mark.
    Well, well, well , Master Boyle thought. What brings the king’s men here? And what business could they have with my client? Was he being arrested? Was that his reason for leaving Edinburgh for several months? But then he considered that Lord Stewart was undoubtedly related to His Majesty and was probably being sent on an errand for his master. Thinking no more about it, he hurried on his way through the rainy morning.
    The men-at-arms in the lane dismounted, one of them pounding on the door to the house. Archie answered the summons with a few pithy words. “Is this how ye ask to enter the dwelling of the king’s cousin?” he demanded of them. “Wipe yer booted feet, my lads. Come into the hall and warm yourselves. His Lordship is waiting for ye.”
    The dozen men followed Archie, several of them chuckling at the feisty little man as they entered the chamber. It was hardly an impressive room, but they knew from a servant of the king’s mistress that the man awaiting them was the king’s own kin. They stood in respectful silence waiting for whatever instructions this lordling would give.
    Lord Stewart looked up. It was time to face his future. He took a deep breath and, rising from his chair by the small hearth, greeted the men-at-arms. “Good morrow, lads. Warm yerselves by the fire. We are almost ready to depart. Do ye know where we are going?” Lord Stewart asked the men.
    The soldiers murmured in the negative.
    “Choose a leader from among ye,” he told them. “I need one of ye in charge of the others. Be ready with yer choice when I return.” Then he left the hall to find Archie, who was just finishing packing up their possessions on the second floor of the house.
    “They’re a rough-looking bunch,” Archie said as Lord Stewart entered his bedchamber. “I wonder if they’re to be trusted.”
    Fingal Stewart shrugged. “We’ll see soon enough, won’t we?” he replied. Seeing his traveling garments laid out for him, he quickly stripped off the clothing he had worn to