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Chapter 7
Fiona Hay looked about the bedchamber she had shared with her laird for the past few months. The fireplace had been cleaned. The bed hangings, feather bed, coverlet, and linens were gone, and all the trunks packed. It had been an exciting time, but she was relieved and happy to be going home, as was Nelly.
“We must make our good-byes now” Fiona said as they departed the apartment. “I'll not be long, for ’Tis early and we have the whole day before us. The earlier the start, the sooner we're there.”
She had already bid Maggie and the queen farewell the previous evening, but the king had said she was to come to him just before she left. It was to his privy chamber she now made her way. James Stewart was an early riser, a man who slept little. Bidding Nelly wait for her outside of the royal chamber, she entered.
“Good morrow, Mistress Hay,” the king said, taking her hand and leading her to one of the two chairs by the fire. To her surprise he pressed a goblet of fragrant wine into her hand and seated himself opposite her. “I will come immediately to the point, Mistress Hay,” he began. “Do ye love Scotland and want peace throughout the land?”
“Aye, my liege,” she said fervently.
“There will be no peace in Scotland until the northern clansmen honestly offer me their fealty, forswear their damned independent thoughts, stop warringamong themselves, and cease their general mayhem. Would ye agree with me, Mistress Hay?” The king's amber eyes pierced her.
“Aye, my liege, I would certainly agree with ye,” Fiona said, wondering what this could possibly be about.
“I have agents in the north watching and sending me word as to the activities of the Lord of the Isles and his allies,” the king said, “but I need someone to observe them from a closer range. I need ye, Mistress Hay.”
“Me?”Fiona was astounded. “How on earth could I possibly help ye in the north, my liege?”
“The MacDonald of Nairn is verra taken with ye, Mistress Hay. He is, as ye know, Alexander MacDonald's bastard half-brother. Nairn is devoted to him, and the Lord of the Isles to his brother as well. If ye were with Nairn, ye would be privy to what was happening, and could share yer information with me. Yer verra fair, Mistress Hay. Were I not a happily married man meself, I should be tempted by ye.”
Fiona was dumbfounded by the king's words, but she was also suddenly afraid. “I hope to wed with my Black Angus one day,” she tried to explain calmly to the king. “What ye are asking me is impossible. Surely ye see that?” Her heart was hammering, for James Stewart didn't look at all as if he was sympathetic to her view.
“Do ye know why I sent the laird to England?” the king asked her.
“Why, to fetch the queen's cousin,” Fiona replied. Everyone knew that.
The king nodded. “The queen is verra fond of her cousin, Elizabeth. She would like her to remain in Scotland, which means Mistress Williams must have a Scotshusband.” He let his words sink into Fiona's consciousness before continuing. “The lady has a small but respectable dower. A wee bit of plate, some gold coins, and a nice flock of sheep. As an orphan she must depend upon her relations to find her a good husband. She is a tender virgin of just the right age for matrimony. Do ye understand what I am saying, Mistress Hay?”
Fiona swallowed a gulp of wine to calm herself.
“Mistress Williams has put herself in the loving care of myself and the queen, and trusts us to settle this matter of a husband for her. She will accept our decision in the matter. Angus Gordon is my friend, and a good man. We would bind him closer to us.”
For a long moment Fiona could not speak, she was so shocked. At last she was able to utter, although her throat felt constricted with her effort, “Are ye saying that ye will not allow me to wed with my Black Angus, my liege?” She could hear her heart in her ears now.
“Mistress Hay,” James Stewart answered her, “ye are a woman who always puts the good of others ahead of yer own desires.Yerisked yer life to dower yer sisters when ye dared to steal Angus Gordon's cattle. When ye were finally caught, ye paid yer debt with the most precious possession a lass has, yer maidenhead.Yehave seen also to the welfare of yer two youngest sisters. Jean, I am told, is to marry the laird's brother, and the littlest girl—Morag, is it?—has a fine dowry and will be well matched when she is old enough.
“Yer a woman who understands the realities of life. I need a united Scotland. I canna have it unless the northern clans are loyal, and they will not be loyal until The MacDonald of the Isles is faithful to me, or I destroy him. I don't know yet what I must do to bring this chieftain to heel, but having an agent near him will giveme a greater advantage than he can possibly have over me.” The king paused a moment to give her time to absorb all of his words. Then he continued.
“Ye are my advantage over the Lord of the Isles, Fiona Hay. Nairn's desire for ye is heaven-sent. Help me! Were ye not one of my first adherents even before we met? I cannot prevent ye from returning to Brae, but what would yer place be there now? Only think of the lives that could be saved by my knowing in advance what tack the Lord of the Isles will take. The agents I have planted in the north canna gain information like that. They can but sift the gossip for me. Only someone like you can learn what I need to know. A man's pillow talk is oft times valuable. Will ye not sacrifice yerself for Scotland? Think of yer sisters, Mistress Hay.”
Those four words were innocent enough, Fiona thought, but she heard the menace in them. She thought of Anne and Elsbeth and Margery with their proud but powerless highland husbands, more apt than not to side with the Lord of the Isles in any dispute with James Stewart. She thought of Jean's joy over her betrothal to James Gordon, and little Morag, who would one day want her share of happiness, too. This king, so capable of forfeiting Fiona's future for his country's good, was capable ofanything.Why had she not seen it before? Then she thought of Angus Gordon, the only man she would ever love. He deserved better than a Hay of the Ben for a wife. Worse, she had brought him nothing but responsibilities.
Elizabeth Williams would bring a dowry worthy of Angus Gordon. And when she saw how loving and gentle he could be, she would surely fall in love with him. And Angus? In time, and with the love of Mistress Williams, he would forget the Hay of the Ben, the brazen daughter of Dugald Hay. The king said she might makethe choice, but he also made it impossible for her to do anything but obey his will. She could feel her heart breaking.
“Mistress Hay?” The king wanted her obedient attention.
“It is not necessary for ye to couch yer wishes in pretty terms, my liege,” Fiona said sharply. “Ye need a spy who can gain the information ye need by whoring for ye. I am not a whore, and ye know it, yet ye would still betray yer best friend to gain yer own ends, James Stewart.
“Verra well. Ye give me no real choice in the matter, but if it salves yer conscience to believe ye do, I canna prevent ye, can I? Since I am not skilled in such matters as spying and whoring, ye will have to give me careful instructions, for I eventually intend returning alive from The MacDonald's lair.And, of course, there is the matter of payment.If ye would destroy my future, ye must pay verra dearly for it,my liege.”She looked directly at him.
Her eyes were like green ice. They made James Stewart exceedingly uncomfortable. But if she was hard, he was yet harder. “Yer to have an escort of a dozen of my men-at-arms,” he began, and she nodded. “Somewhere along yer route, and I suspect it will be today or early tomorrow, Nairn and his men will attack yer wee train. The men-at-arms have been ordered to flee as quickly as possible, leaving ye and yer maid helpless. Nairn will, of course, carry ye off into the highlands.”
“Ye are certain of this?” Fiona said softly. “Perhaps all he wants to do is have a quick coupling. Will he not be suspicious if my escort flees so quickly? And how can ye be certain Nairn will kidnap me,my liege?If ye have not arranged this, too, then yer plan may well be futile.”
“Nairn has been carefully goaded into rashness over the last few days,” the king said. “His desire for ye has not been abated one whit. He will abduct ye. He would, I am told, make ye his wife. Bride-stealing is an old Scots custom, as ye well know, Fiona Hay. Did not yer father steal yer mother?”
“Aye, and she spent the rest of her life in misery because of it,” Fiona said angrily. “She hated Dugald Hay as I shall hate The MacDonald of Nairn, but unlike my mam, I shall not spend my life in suffering. I will whore for ye, James Stewart, and I will spy for ye, but I will not marry a man I don't love!”
