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“Fiona wasenceintewith Angus Gordon's child when ye sent her into the highlands, cousin. She was not certain of her condition, and so she was afraid to refuse ye lest she later discover she was not with child and ye accuse her of perfidy.”
‘Jesu!” the king whispered. “Ninian, I didn't know! I swear it by the Blessed Mother and my own sweet Joan. I didn't know!”
“MacDonald handfasted her in his brother's hall on Islay. He truly believes the son she bore to be his own. The child is named Alastair James for his brother and for ye. When I visited Nairns Craig in early autumn of this year and passed along yer latest message to Fiona, she was devastated to learn that the queen's cousin had wed her former lover.
“As the term of the handfast was coming to an end, Fiona asked me to marry her to Colin MacDonald before I returned south for the winter. She believed thatthere was nothing else for her to do. Now that she is Nairn's true wife, she will not spy for ye. Ye canna blame her, and besides, the information she passed along was not of such great a value that ye will miss her. Let her go, James Stewart.”
“Ye have grown fond of her, have ye not?”
Ninian nodded. “I have. She is a fine woman who has faced facts and made the most of her life that she could. She protected her bairn as best she might, and now, married to Nairn, she will give him her complete loyalty. She told me to tell ye her fealty to ye stands. She is yet yer liege woman, but she will not spy for ye.”
“’Tis a strange sort of loyalty she offers me,” the king grumbled.
“Give over, James Stewart, and let the lass go. She can bear no more than she has. ‘Twas a cruel thing ye did, cousin, when ye forced Fiona Hay into yer service. And ye have robbed Angus Gordon of his son and heir, although I suppose Mistress Elizabeth will give him a houseful of bairns.”
The king looked decidedly uncomfortable, but then, knowing whatever he told the priest was confidential, he said, “Elizabeth is not wed to Angus Gordon. She wed Ian Ogilvy. Angus is yet in England with our uncle Atholl negotiating better terms for my maintenance payments.”
“Then why,” the priest said, an angry edge to his voice, “did ye send word to Fiona Hay that Mistress Elizabeth Williams had wed with a husband of her guardians’ choice? It was yer message delivered by me that precipitated her decision to marry The MacDonald of Nairn.”
“I only meant for it to keep her in the north with Nairn,” the king said. “I knew she would assume I meant the bridegroom was Angus. I thought it wouldfurther anger her and make her more determined to remain rather than come sneaking back to her tower on the ben. I did not know there was a child, or that she would wed Nairn. I thought her pride would keep her where I wanted her rather than returning in shame.”
“Cousin” the priest said disapprovingly, “ye have meddled in lives with an abandon that belongs only to God, and stolen Angus Gordon's son from him. I do not know what will happen to the laird of Loch Brae, but I thank God that Fiona Hay will be safe in Colin MacDonald's love, for, cousin, love her he does. Have ye confessed all this mischief to yer confessor?”
“’Tis state business,” the king said by way of explanation. “Ye have heard it. These decisions I made for the good of Scotland, ye choose to believe are my sins. Give me a penance, Ninian, and I will perform it.”
The priest shook his head in the negative. “Nay, cousin, I will not shrive ye, for ye are not sorry at all for what ye have done.Yeknow that a penitent must be penitent.” He smiled slightly to take the edge from his decision, for he did not want to offend his cousin.
The king shrugged. “I canna be sorry for doing what I believe is best for Scotland. I do not know what else to do but what I have done.Yewill, I hope, continue to be of service to me.”
“Aye,” the priest said, “but not just for ye. For all the clansmen and clanswomen who have become my friends over the years I have traveled the north bringing God and His sacraments to those good peoples. They are not yer enemies, cousin. They are a remnant of our past as a proud and free people. In time they will come to ye if ye will but treat them with respect and kindness. Do not listen to the counsel of greedy and ambitious men, cousin.”
“I canna show weakness, Ninian.”
“To show respect for another, cousin, is not weakness,” was the calm reply. The priest drank down the last of his mulled wine, then stood. “Unless ye need me further, I would pay my respects to the abbot and bathe before vespers.”
“Go,” James Stewart said, “but come and see me often until ye decide to return to the north.”
The priest bowed respectfully, then departed.
The king sat back down, swirling the remaining wine and spices in his cup around and around. He was irritated at himself for having misread Fiona Hay. Certainly the information she had sent him had been valuable to a point, but hardly earth-shattering. He had placed her with Nairn because one day, he instinctively knew, she would have something of real value to pass on to him. But now she would not, and all because he had been too heavy-handed in his handling of her. He must accept his loss. Fiona Hay was as gone from his life as she was from Angus Gordon's life.
And here James Stewart felt a twinge of guilt, for he was basically a decent man. Pray God Angus never learn of his part in separating the lovers. Pray God and His Blessed Mother that Angus never learn that he had a son who would grow up known as Alastair MacDonald. The king envied his friend that unknown son, for he wanted a son, too. The queen had already birthed a daughter, whom they had named Margaret. She was a lovely, fat baby with her mother's auburn hair. James Stewart had great plans for his daughter. He dreamed of a marriage that would one day make his daughter queen of France. In the interim the king prayed for a son.
The following spring, the queen bore a second daughter, who was called Isabella. The year after,Queen Joan finally gave Scotland its long-awaited heir, a small prince who was called Alexander, but the baby was weak. It was feared he would not reach manhood, and so it was necessary that the queen continue in her efforts to give Scotland more princes.
The little prince had been born at year's end. Even in the snowy highlands the word had spread that the king at last had a son, and the good-natured high-landers celebrated the child's birth.
At Nairns Craig, Fiona sat at her loom in her hall watching her children playing upon the floor. Alastair would be three in late spring. Mary was sixteen months old, and a new baby would be born before the snows were off the bens in earliest spring. Mary was her father's image, and had been named for both her grandmothers, whose Celtic names were variations on the more Anglicized version.
“Times are changing,” Fiona had said after her daughter was born. “Eventually we will make our peace with the king. Our daughter may even go to court to serve the queen. Better her name be understood by all, particularly those who don't speak our Gaelic language.”
Moire Rose agreed with her daughter-in-law.
The MacDonald of Nairn laughed. “I cannot win between the two of ye. Is it natural that a wife and a mother-in-law be such good friends?” he teased them.
“If they live in the same house, it certainly is!” Fiona said, and Moire Rose laughed her odd harsh laugh.
The king had not called a gathering of the clans in either 1426 or 1427. The highlands remained relatively calm, but the Lord of the Isles and the majority of the clan chieftains had not yet sworn their fealty to JamesStewart. He finally had no choice but to call a gathering of the clans in Inverness or admit to not being in full control of his entire land. The assemblage was set for midjuly. The tower of Inverness Castle was repaired for James Stewart's arrival that summer.
