betray him with his half brother was a terrible treachery. Black Ian was the bastard of the laird's father, born when the old laird was scarce fifteen. His mother was a cotter's lass. The old laird had a daughter by her too. But then he fell in love with a Bruce, married her, and was faithful to her the rest of his life. Oh, he acknowledged his bastards, but after his legitimate son was born things were different. Black Ian was almost grown by the time our laird was born, but he never forgave his father for favoring and putting his legitimate son first. Everyone knew that was how it should be,' Fenella said, 'but Black Ian would not accept it. He was the firstborn. Whenever he got the chance, he was cruel to his half brother, although never in sight of their father. One day, however, our laird's mother caught him throwing stones at her child, who was just four at the time. The lady took a stick to him, and when he dared to fight her back, she screamed at the top of her lungs. The old laird came running, saw his bastard attacking his wife and child, and beat him almost senseless. For Black Ian that was the final straw. He turned outlaw. Our laird grew up knowing about his half brother, but he didn't remember him, not having seen him since that fateful day.'
'How did the laird's half brother get involved with the lady Robena?' Alix asked.
'Black Ian had been gone from here for several years. In that time his father had died, his brother became Laird of Dunglais and took a bride. Fiona was just a year old when it began, although no one knows how they met. Or even why the lady Robena betrayed her husband. But Black Ian made certain that our laird knew his wife had run away with him. And of course, the laird being an honorable man, had no choice but to go after his wife and avenge his honor. He killed his half brother, but the lady Robena ran off when she saw her lover would lose. They found her body months later. No one knows how she died, but when they found her she had been ravaged by wild beasts.'
'So Jeannie told me. A terrible end nonetheless even for a bad woman,' Alix murmured. 'Jeannie says the laird swore an oath to her family that he didn't kill her.'
Fenella nodded. 'He did, and he would not have killed her. He couldn't. He loved her in spite of it, and she was the mother of his child. Malcolm Scott is an honorable and a good man, Alix,' the housekeeper said. 'It wasn't right that he be so wounded by his wife, but then she wasn't as perfect as he believed.'
'You did not like her?' Alix was surprised.
'Some girls are suited for marriage at fourteen and motherhood at fifteen. Robena Scott was not,' Fenella replied. 'The laird fell in love with a beautiful young girl who fit his ideal of perfect womanhood. He was sophisticated. She was not. He was a friend of our late king and had been to court. She expected he would take her to court when they married, but he did not. Like all men, he wanted an heir first, but she birthed a daughter and the lady was angry at the child. She would hardly touch her, would not nurse her, and sulked. So to cheer her up, the laird took her to court, introducing her to the king and the queen. I am told she had a fine time.
'When they returned, he wanted her to give him his son, an heir for Dunglais. But she kept him from her bed, wept most of the time, and still showed little interest in Fiona. She wanted to go back to court. It was then she took to riding out alone. That must have been when she met Black Ian. Suddenly she was in a state of high excitement much of the time. The laird became suspicious, of course, for he is no fool. One day as he watched her ride out, the lady's tiring woman came to him and told him that she had watched her mistress take her jewelry from its box and secret it upon herself.
'The laird immediately called for his horse and rode after her. Even a man in love knows a woman who rides off with her jewelry is up to mischief of some kind. He found her, of course, with his half brother. What transpired between them that day only the laird is left alive to say. The fight ensued. We know that because the laird brought his half brother's body home to bury. Black Ian bore the Scott name, and the laird is both respectful and proud of it.'
'Was Black Ian's mother still alive?' Alix asked, curious.
'Aye, and while she mourned her son, she knew that if Malcolm Scott killed him he had just cause,' Fenella said. 'The old laird was always good to Black Ian's mother, and after he died our laird treated her and his half sister, Moire, with kindness.'
Alix absorbed all the information that both Fenella and Jeannie imparted to her. For the time being she knew that with the weather already wintry it was unlikely the laird would send her off. He was a good and honest man, but she suspected that once she told him more of her history he would be unlikely to allow her to remain at Dunglais once it was possible for her to travel. Nor would he trust her.
And Alix had decided that she wanted to remain. Dunglais was isolated. It was unlikely that if Sir Udolf bothered to seek for her that he would find her here. But the laird would need a very good reason to permit her to stay, and Alix had that reason. With no wife, mother, sister, or suitable female relation in residence, little Fiona had no one to teach her what a young lady would need to know.
That evening, with Fiona tucked into her bed, Alix approached Malcolm Scott as he sat by the great hearth in the hall, a half-emptied goblet in his big hand. 'May I speak with you, my lord?' she said in a quiet voice.
He looked up. Christ's bones, he thought, but she was a pretty lass. He nodded, and gestured towards the chair facing his. 'You are feeling better,' he said.
'I am, my lord, thanks to you, Fenella, and Jeannie,' Alix answered.
'Good! Good!' His gaze drifted away from her.
'My lord, I thought that perhaps you would wish to know more of my history,' Alix began, and his eyes cleared, fixing their steady look on her.
'I should very much like to learn more of you, Mistress Alix.'
Alix gave him a small, amused smile. 'My name, as I have told you, is Alix Givet. My parents, who are deceased, came from France with Margaret of Anjou when she wed King Henry. My father, Alexander Givet, was the queen's personal physician. My mother, Blanche, one of her ladies. Both were the children of minor nobility in Anjou. I was born in England and raised in Queen Margaret's household. My mother died over two years ago. My father and I fled with the royal household when the Yorkists overthrew King Henry.
'At a place called Towson, King Henry's forces were defeated a final time. The royal family, with their few remaining retainers, fled into the English border country. They sheltered with one Sir Udolf Watteson preparatory to coming into Scotland. During the weeks of our flight, Queen Margaret had reluctantly come to realize it was easier to beg sanctuary if your retinue was smaller than larger. She left behind most of her servants with friends and others who were willing to take them in.' Alix paused briefly, then continued. She was surprised by the emotions she had begun to feel with the retelling.
To her surprise the laird offered her his cup. 'Take some wine' was all he said.
Alix took two hearty sips and handed the vessel back to the man across from her. 'Sir Udolf had a son for whom he sought a wife. The queen, with my father's permission, made the match between us. She is my godmother, and wanted a safe place for me and for my father who was ill. I should not have agreed to the match but for my father's health. He could no longer travel, and needed a home where he might live out his final months in peace.
'Sir Udolf is a good man, but his son was an odd, childlike creature. He had a mistress upon whom he doted. He wanted to marry her, but her birth was low. Sir Udolf would not have it. I knew all of this, but while I knew my husband would not love me, I asked only for his respect. But he would not give it. He punished me for marrying him, and for not being Maida. Still, I was a good wife, keeping the hall while caring for both my father-in-law and my father.
'Then poor Maida died in childbed, and her son with her. It was the same day in which my own father died.' Alix crossed herself. 'My husband was devastated. His mind had never been strong. During the next few days he went completely mad. He attempted to throttle me, but Sir Udolf and the servants saved me from what would have been a certain death. Then, as the servants attempted to restrain Hayle-that was my husband's name-he broke free of them and fled to the top of the house. For the briefest moment his sanity returned. He told his father he could not live without his Maida, and while Sir Udolf looked on helplessly, Hayle flung himself from an attic window to his death below.' Alix crossed herself again.
'So you fled,' the laird said. 'Why? You did not kill the poor man. None of what happened was your doing, or your fault. Surely Sir Udolf did not blame you.'
'Nay, Sir Udolf is a good man. But I knew I could not remain at Wulfborn. I told him so, and decided to find my godmother, the queen, here in Scotland. I hoped that she would take me back into her household. But Sir Udolf said that as his only son, his heir, was dead, he would have to remarry and father another son.'
'God's blood!' Malcolm Scott swore immediately, seeing where Alix's tale was going. 'He wanted to marry
