laird had opened the door for her, and Alix found that despite the less than suitable situation in which she found herself, she was eager to know what else lay on the other side of that wonderful door. Had Hayle Watteson been an exception to the rule? Were all men like Malcolm Scott? She didn't care as long as she might be in his arms, his delicious kisses rendering her dizzy with delight.
The following day the servants moved her few small belongings into the bedchamber next to the laird's. When Fiona asked why, for she was a curious child, the laird told her it was because then Alix would be closer to her, for Fiona's bedchamber was on the other side of the laird's.
'We shall be like three little buglets all in a snug row,' Alix added.
'I like that!' Fiona enthused and Alix actually felt a tiny twinge of guilt for beguiling her small charge.
The border was quiet that year, and as the summer waned the Laird of Dunglais found his lust for Alix Givet burning brighter with each day. It was not enough that he shared her bed each night now. They rode out one day alone while Fiona remained behind with Fenella, learning how to stuff a mattress, an absolute necessity for any lady, Alix assured her, and the housekeeper agreed.
On a hillside Alix and the laird sat watching his cattle grazing peacefully. She lay back and looked up at the sky, where clouds scudded back and forth sometimes blocking the sunlight, sometimes letting it blaze bright down upon them. She saw the lust in his eyes as he looked down upon her and held open her arms to him. In no time at all Alix found her skirts about her waist and her lover vigorously fucking her. Her legs about his torso, she ran her nails down his broad back as he brought her quickly to pleasure and then did it again as her cries echoed about them.
'I did not know you could share passion on a hillside,' she told him.
'Passion can be shared at any time, in any place,' he assured her.
He proved the point again several days later when he found Alix in the stables brushing her mare's roan coat to a fine shine. Standing behind her, he played with her breasts as she worked and her breath began to come in quick pants. Then, as there was no one about, he put her down upon her back on a fat bale of fresh hay and entered her.
'I am your stallion,' he told her as he used her vigorously, and then he put his hand over her mouth to stifle her cries, for her arousal was very great.
'You are a wicked man,' she said afterwards, but she was smiling.
He laughed at her admonishment. 'You enjoyed it every bit as much as I did,' he teased her wickedly, pulling a bit of straw from her hair.
In early autumn a rider came to Dunglais wearing the badge of Queen Marie. The directive he bore commanded the Laird of Dunglais to come to her castle of Ravenscraig in Fife as soon as possible. The laird send the queen's man back with a message saying he would be honored to wait upon her and would bring his little daughter to meet Queen Marie. 'You will come with us,' he told Alix as they lay abed that same night.
'You would bring your mistress to meet the queen?' she asked him, slightly shocked. 'I am not certain that is right, my lord.'
'You are my daughter's companion and a former member of Margaret of Anjou's household,' the laird said. 'I would hardly introduce you as my mistress. But Fiona will need you, and it is an excellent opportunity for her to see how she needs to behave among her own kind. And meeting Queen Marie may be of benefit to you, lambkin.'
'Then it is fortunate that I have just made two new gowns from the material you gave me at Michaelmas,' Alix responded. She had to admit it. She was excited about going to court, but of course there would not necessarily be a court such as the one she had grown up in around the Scot's queen mother, her young son, the king, and his siblings. And they were going to Marie of Gueldres's own castle, not Stirling or Edinburgh, or even Falklands.
'How long are we to be gone?' Alix asked the earl.
'I cannot say, but I doubt it will be long. There is no reason for the queen to desire my company unless it has something to do with guns,' Malcolm Scott said. 'And we will want to be back again before the weather turns.'
'I must have a few days to prepare,' Alix said. 'I am not certain Fiona has the proper garments. She's a country lass. Her clothing is reflective of her simple life.'
'This won't be the court as you know it,' the laird responded. 'Ravenscraig is the queen's private home. Jamie bought it for her the year he died, and set his royal stone mason, Henry Martzioun, to make the repairs needed and fortify it.'
'Nonetheless you can hardly allow your daughter to meet the king's mother looking like a tinker's brat,' Alix told him. 'You do not know who will be with the queen, or who will see your child. Remember you will eventually have to make a match for Fiona. As your heiress she will be considered to have a certain value. But if she displays well, her value will increase, my lord.'
'God's foot, lass!' the laird exclaimed. 'Your years at court have taught you well. Three days, and no more.'
Fiona was beside herself with excitement. 'I am going to meet the queen!' she singsonged over and over again as she danced about her father's hall. 'Will I meet the king too, Alix? Will I?' she asked, twirling about the older girl.
'Stand still, you little minx!' Fenella said irritably. 'How am I to take your measurements if you persist in prancing about? You can't meet Queen Marie in your chemise, lass.'
'Fiona! Do what you are told,' Alix said sharply.
The little girl suddenly stood quiet. 'I'm sorry, Alix, Fenella. I am just so excited to be going to court.'
'It isn't really court,' Alix explained. 'We are going to visit the queen in her own home. She wishes to speak with your father on some unknown matter. He is taking us so you may meet the king's mother. And aye. You may meet the young king.'
'Does he have brothers and sisters?' Fiona wanted to know. 'I've always wanted brothers and sisters, but unless Da will take another wife I don't suppose I'll ever have them,' she said with a sigh.
'But if your da remarried and had a son, you would no longer be the heiress to Dunglais,' Alix said to the little girl.
Fiona looked up at the older woman with wise eyes. 'Alix, whether I am the heiress to Dunglais or no matters not a whit. I will be matched and married one day. And if I am the heiress my husband will take over Dunglais when Da dies. It isn't really mine, and never will be. Either way I will have a good dower portion. I'd just as soon Dunglais remain in the Scott family, and in order for that to happen Da must wed again.'
Alix was astounded that her young charge had such a firm grasp of the situation. Her eyes met Fenella's, and the housekeeper shrugged, but a small smile played about her lips. It told Alix that Fenella was Fiona's font of information.
'Maybe the queen will have a nice lady for your father to wed,' Fenella said wickedly, and her eyes danced with mischief.
'Nay,' Fiona said. 'I want Da to marry Alix.'
'
Fiona sighed dramatically. 'I know my da loved my mother, but my mother is dead, and my da is still young enough to have a nice wife. And I like you. Da wouldn't marry anyone I did not like, Alix. Wouldn't you like to marry my da?'
Alix could feel her face burning. What was she going to say to the child? She couldn't say she hadn't liked being married. Fiona should not be swayed from the path chosen for her. But the truth was in the few months since she and the laird had become lovers she had begun to consider that a life with Malcolm Scott by her side would not be a bad thing. Fiona was looking at her expectantly, and so Alix finally said, 'It isn't up to a lady to decide whom she will wed, little one. It is the gentleman who must want to marry, and your da does not.'
'But would you marry my da if he asked you?' Fiona wanted to know.
Oh
