Betrayed

'My old Flora said I was to do it. She says a manhood can become diseased if it is not kept clean.' Pushing back his foreskin, she washed him most competently, dried him, and then, drawing the flesh down back over the knob, she smiled up at him even as she gave it a pat. 'There now, 'tis done, and ye'll be all the better for it.'

He laughed, charmed by her ingenuousness, but then he teased her, 'Yer tender ministrations will but encourage my Gordie, lassie.'

Her eyes widened. 'Ye don't mean we could do it again tonight, do ye, my lord?' To his amusement her look was very hopeful.

“When I was yer age, Fiona Hay, I could do it a dozen times a night. Now, alas, I can but manage three or four. Get into bed,' he ordered her, his look suddenly menacing.

She caught her lower lip with her teeth, and to his surprise she giggled. 'How many times do ye think ye can do it tonight?' she demanded wickedly. 'I like it when ye take me, Angus Gordon.'

'So I've noticed,' he said. 'Get into bed, lassie.'

Her tongue slid seductively over her lips. 'Three times or four, my lord?'

He grinned at her. 'Ye’ll not know, lassie, until we get back into yer bed.' He chuckled. 'I think, however, I can manage four.'

She pulled him eagerly by the hand, and when they lay sated a second time, Fiona thought to herself that being the laird's mistress was not such a bad fate after all. She was still of the same mind when she awoke in the morning, sore, but certainly more than well satisfied.

Chapter 4

Robert, Duke of Albany, brother of the late king, Robert III, uncle to the young captive king, James I, and regent of Scotland, had not been the most popular man in the land, but his rule was a strong one.

The moment he'd assumed the regency for his captive nephew, the Duke of Albany had renewed the peace with England, then grandly declared that during his tenure as Scotland's temporary ruler no burden should be placed upon the poor by his administration. It was an extremely clever move, for the differences between the highland Celtic population and the more civilized Scots of the lowlands were becoming more and more pronounced. There was utter anarchy and lawlessness throughout Scotland, which while more manageable in the lowland regions, was impossible to control in the highlands. There each powerful chieftain renewed his independence in the ways that the clans had been independent prior to the rule of Robert the Bruce. The Duke of Albany sought to overlook what he could, which was much.

The lords of the Isles were the worst offenders, possessing a fleet of their own with which they harassed the rest of the coastal regions of Scotland at their convenience. The MacDonald, the most powerful of the chiefs, had made his own peace with England. He considered himself their ally. The regent, a man far more interested in adding to his family's wealth and power, pointedly ignored The MacDonald.

The English held two hostages of interest to the regent: his nephew, the young king, who was technically his overlord; and his own son, Murdoch, Earl of Fife. While Albany's first duty was to negotiate the release of the king, his aims in that direction were lukewarm. It was his own son for whom he had interceded with all the passion in his ambitious soul. It was greatly to his advantage that his nephew remain in England, but in a calculated and tender show of familial concern, he had sent the young sons of the Scots nobility south on a regular basis to keep their boy-king company. Angus Gordon had spent two years with his king, during which time he had learned to read and write. It hadn't been easy, but young James Stewart had insisted.

'When I come into my own again, Angus, I'll need men of intellect, as well as those who are good with a sword,' he had cajoled his youthful companion.

'Ye’ll need men who are loyal to ye, my liege,' the boy Angus had replied. 'Remember that yer uncle murdered yer brother to keep him from the throne. He'd just as soon ye remained in England. He has ambitions for yer throne, and this English king who holds ye has gotten his crown by usurpation as well. He understands the regent's desires, for they are his own.'

'There is more to it than that,' the king replied to his friend. 'There is a rumor that the last English king, Richard II, was not murdered at Pontefract Castle, but escaped to the isles where he was captured by Lord Montgomery, and given to my father as a hostage. It is said my father maintained him, that now he lives in royal state, cared for by my uncle, Albany. I saw the man once. He indeed looks like a portrait of that king that I have seen here in my captivity in England. King Henry keeps me here so that the regent will not send his rival back to England to dispute his claim to the throne. They counterbalance each other, Angus Gordon. Only when this man dies will I be able to return home again, I fear.'

And so the fragile peace had continued between Scotland and England. The death of Henry IV changed little but that Albany was able to finally regain custody of his own son, Murdoch, Earl of Fife, in exchange for the young Earl of Northumberland, son of the famed Percy lord known as Hotspur. Henry V went to France to fight for its throne. He took with him the young king of the Scots, for the wily regent was allowing Scotsmen to fight for the French. Having the Scots king fight by the side of the English king was a psychological victory, and many Scots withdrew from the French army, feeling torn between their national loyalty and their desire to earn their keep, for many were younger sons. The regent died at the age of eighty, to be succeeded by his eldest son, Murdoch, for whose release he had struggled so hard.

The new Duke of Albany unfortunately lacked his father's political astuteness. He was neither crafty nor ambitious, although he certainly didn't wish to give up all the material gains that his father had garnered. He was a basically lazy man of easy character, unable to wield much authority over the land, let alone his own family. He was quickly bored with trying to manage an administration that was in fact unmanageable. The country slipped deeper into anarchy.

To add to Duke Murdoch's troubles, there came a contagious malaise, with fever and dysentery, that afflicted the entire country from highlands to lowlands. The murmurings began that God was displeased because Scotland had denied its rightful master. The dukes of Albany had held power for too long, while the poor young king languished in the custody of their mortal enemies, the English. The illness was God's judgment on Scotland.

The nobility laughed scornfully. Most were content with things the way they were, yet the more responsible among them realized that the violence and disorder would only lead to more of the same.

In an odd turn of events, Walter, the Earl of Atholl, suddenly decided he would have to involve himself personally in a negotiation to bring home his nephew, the rightful king of Scotland. Yes, James Stewart was a man full-grown, and it was past time for him to return. Further, the Protector of England was said to be inclined to be reasonable because he was at war with France and needed to have peace on the northern border. The time was propitious. Walter formed a delegation to go to England and negotiate for the release of James Stewart.

It was a small delegation, the most important members of it being, of course, Walter himself; John, the Red Stewart of Dundonald; and the bishop of St. Andrews. Arriving in England, the Scots discovered first that James Stewart was no weakling, as his father had been, and fully intended to rule Scotland with an iron hand. Their second surprise came when they learned the king had chosen a bride, Lady Joan Beaufort, the infant English king's older cousin, and a granddaughter of the formidable John of Gaunt. James Stewart expected his delegation to arrange not only his release but his marriage contract as well.

It took almost a year and a half to bring the negotiations to complete fruition. The king of Scotland would return home; his people would pay sixty thousand merks over a period of six years to the English as remuneration for James Stewart's keep while he had lived in England. Further, the Scots promised to cease giving aid to the French against the English; Lady Joan Beaufort would become Scotland's queen, her dowry to be a quarter of the sum due the English from the Scots.

The marriage was celebrated at St. Mary Overy in Southwark on the thirteenth of February in the year of our lord fourteen hundred and twenty-four. On the twenty-eighth day of March the royal Scots train set off northward, crossing over the border on the ninth day of April. To everyone's surprise the rugged road was lined upon both sides with men, women, and children, all eager for a glimpse of their long-lost king and his pretty new queen. They