across the table. In the hearth the fire flared up angrily, sucked up the high chimney as the wind whirled westwards across the hills.
II
She could not bring herself to throw the phoenix into the well. For a long time she stood, the jewel in her hand, contemplating the circle of black water so far below. The cold enamel, the rubies, the ice-blue sapphires would be no danger in the water and her link with Alexander would be gone forever. He was there at her side. She could feel him pleading. Her eyes filled with tears.
‘Please, let me go, my love,’ she whispered into the darkness of the well chamber. ‘Don’t begrudge me happiness with Donald. Let me go to him.’
She stretched out her hand. The chain hung glinting from her fingers over the water for a moment, then abruptly she withdrew it. She couldn’t bring herself to drop it, but she would hide it where it would never be found and once she had left Falkland she would leave Alexander behind.
She wrapped the pendant in its piece of silk and, turning in a whirl of skirts, she ran back to the stair. On the second floor of the Great Tower she ran into the small private chapel next to the earl’s bedroom. It was very dark and the air was heavy with incense. Only one small candle burned before the statue of Our Lady. She moved hesitantly towards the altar.
Wedging the small package behind the reredos she pushed it down as far as she could reach, then she stepped back and murmured a quick prayer. Crossing herself, she ran from the incense-rich gloom.
Rhonwen stepped quickly back out of sight. Later she would break the habit of a lifetime and enter the chapel. Later, when the king commanded it. Until then the phoenix was safe where it was.
III
They married secretly. The King and Queen of Scots witnessed their wedding at Kinross whilst obligingly ensuring that the Earl and Countess of Mar were at Roxburgh, and Donald and Eleyne rode north towards Mar the same afternoon. Snow was falling and the tracks were treacherous but they were both too happy to notice. Wagonloads of Eleyne’s possessions would follow them north as soon as the snows melted, together with some of her horses. The dogs were at her heels.
She had bidden a tearful farewell to Colban and Macduff and her little grandson, Duncan. ‘I’ll come back and see you all very soon,’ and she hugged each in turn. Her farewell to Anna was a little more restrained. Her daughter-in-law had begun to treat her with a reserve that bordered on antipathy and Eleyne had the feeling the girl was glad to see her go. Eleyne had ordered Rhonwen to stay at Falkland to look after the nurseries. Both Malcolm’s sons had been made royal wards on his death, but the king had promised that Eleyne would remain their guardian.
‘Just give Donald and me a little time together,’ she whispered to her eldest son. ‘Just a little time, then I’ll come back to you.’
IV
Kildrummy Castle lay huge and squat in the broad valley of the Don. Snow had swept the landscape of mountains and broad river valley, moorland and forest to a uniform whiteness and the towers and walls were frosted with crystals which glittered in the sunlight. Eleyne reined in with an exclamation of delight. ‘It looks as though it’s built from snow! A snow tower in a snowy land. It’s lovely.’
Donald grinned at her. Swathed in white furs, riding a white horse, she looked like a snow princess.
He took Eleyne at once to their circular bedchamber. A huge fire had been lighted in the hearth and a dozen candles burned in the sconces as he unfastened her cloak and threw it down. Laughing, blowing on his frozen fingers to warm them, he undressed her and pulled her on to the bed. ‘At last!’ He kissed her eyes and nose and ears. ‘You are mine at last. And no one, ever, can take you away from me!’ His hands on her breasts were cold and she caught her breath and squealed like a girl as he flung himself on to her with a cry of triumph and pressed his mouth over hers.
For the next two weeks, to the vast amusement of the Kildrummy household, they were very seldom out of bed. The servants, giggling, brought them food and wine on huge trays and kept the fires and candles alight, vainly trying not to look at the drawn bed curtains or hear the stifled laughter from behind them.
V
It was on St Joseph’s Day – a beautiful day which presaged, according to the legend, a fertile year and a lucky life to any born on it – that the Earl and Countess of Mar arrived home.
A frantic knocking on the chamber door alerted the newlyweds. As Donald pushed Eleyne reluctantly from him, Hugh Leslie, the earl’s steward, entered the room. A small earnest conscientious man in his fifties, his face was pale and he was gesturing frantically behind him.
William and Elizabeth stood in the doorway; both still wore their travelling cloaks. The snow crystals clung for a moment then melted in the heat of the fire.
Donald had barely had time to pull on his tunic and run his fingers through his hair before he faced his father defiantly. ‘Could you not wait to greet us downstairs, father? Were you so eager you had to come to our bedroom?’
‘Is it true?’ William was apoplectic with rage. ‘Is it true that you are married?’ His pale eyes strayed to Eleyne, who knelt on the bed only half covered by a sheet, her hair tangled and wild down her back. The distaste in his face was plain to see.
‘Yes, it’s true.’ Donald tried to keep the defensiveness out of his voice. ‘Lady Fife has done me the great honour of becoming my wife, with the blessing of the king and queen.’
‘Sweet Jesus!’ Elizabeth of Mar’s voice was harsh. ‘Do you know what you have done?’
‘Yes, mama.’ Donald was keeping his tone even with great difficulty. ‘I have married the most beautiful woman in the world.’
‘Indeed.’ Elizabeth’s cold sarcasm was cutting. ‘A woman who runs from bed to bed like a bitch in heat. A woman who was already married before I – your own mother! – was born! You have married yourself, you stupid boy, to a woman who is probably past the age of childbearing! Sweet Blessed Virgin, did you not think of that? Are you so besotted by her flesh that you did not think of your duty to the earldom?’
Donald had blushed scarlet. ‘Mama, how dare you! Please leave this room, both of you.’ He walked back to the bed and sitting down put his arm around Eleyne’s shoulders. She was still kneeling on the sheets, white-faced and speechless with shock. He turned back to his parents. ‘You will apologise to my wife, both of you, or we will leave
