“Slipped into my saddlebag as I traveled,” the earl said. “No one was more surprised to see them than I was when yer man brought them into the hall. Ye must admit that the letter itself was a bland bit of writing, making no offer to Mary Stuart of help.”
“Aye,” Donal Stewart agreed. “And it was probably written by the agent. The parchment showed no seal in the wax. I was suspicious, but the rest seemed to involve ye, my lord. I will need proof of some sort if ye are to convince my sire of yer innocence.”
“I have documented all, and have two copies of everything. One will go wi’ ye when ye and yer men leave Duin tomorrow to seek out the regent.”
“Ye will nae go?” Donal Stewart was surprised.
“Yer sire’s first instinct would be to throw me in prison while he considered the matter at his leisure,” the Earl of Duin said. “His time is better spent governing Scotland right now. But he will sit long enough to listen to yer report and yer advice in this matter. Perhaps he will be able to come to a quick decision. He is welcome to come to Duin and speak wi’ me himself. ’Tis bold of me to suggest it, but I hae been away from home long enough these last months. I wish to pick up the threads of my life and live in peace again,” Angus Ferguson declared.
“My opinion counts for little among my sire and his friends,” Donal Stewart said, “but I think it will be several years before Scotland is at peace again. For now my sire fears the return of his half sister, for many wish it. And the care of a child king, as ye know from our history, is a perilous one, my lord.”
His companions all nodded.
“Poor wee bairn,” Annabella said. “I’m sure he hae everything he needs, and is warm and dry, but where is the love in his life? A bairn needs a parent or a keeper who will hug him, rock him to sleep in her arms, cuddle him when he is frightened. The unfortunate mite is surrounded by greedy men, all eager to rule in his name.”
Donal Stewart nodded. “I mean nae disrespect to my own sire, madam, but ye’re correct. They all see the laddie as a pawn for their own use and the enrichment of their families.”
“Yet she left him,” Annabella said. “If I were asked I should nae be able to support a woman who abandoned her own bairn.”
“I think yer plan a sound one, my lord,” Donal Stewart said to the earl. “Ye’re right when ye say my sire would toss ye in the nearest prison in fear of ye. Aye, I’ll take yer proofs to him, and explain myself how ye went off to France to clear yer name. Ye hae witnesses other than the French involved.”
“I was wi’ my husband,” Annabella said. “I know the courts will nae take a woman’s sworn word, but surely the regent would if I spoke wi’ him.”
“Ye were wi’ yer lord?” Donal Stewart didn’t know whether to believe her or not.
Angus laughed. “Aye, the vixen disguised herself as a lad, binding her breasts flat and hiding her hair beneath her cap. Then she followed after me, and saved my life when a pair of villains attempted to murder me.” He went on to explain in detail how Annabella had gone after him and hidden her identity. How he had learned of her deception only when she had to reveal herself to save him.
Donal Stewart was amazed. His sire would be intrigued. The young Countess of Duin was the kind of woman whom every man should be so fortunate as to possess: loyal to a fault, and loving. “Madam,” he said, “I dinna think I approve of yer actions, but I must say that I admire what ye did for yer man.”
It was agreed that Donal Stewart and his men would depart in the morning, and they did. The Earl of Moray’s bastard son promised to send word once he had spoken with his sire on the matter. Then he rode off, and the drawbridge was drawn up once again to keep Duin Castle safe from unwanted guests. The earl was therefore surprised several days later to see a large party of men gathered on the hill above the castle. The men-at-arms stood at the alert. And then one man detached himself from the party and rode down the road to Duin. Watching from the heights, Angus Ferguson recognized Donal Stewart. “Lower the drawbridge,” he said.
The visitor galloped into the courtyard of the castle, where the earl was waiting to greet him. He immediately jumped from his horse, bowed, and then said, “The Earl of Moray sends his compliments. He would like yer permission to enter Duin Castle, my lord.”
“He is welcome wi’ ten men, no more, Donal Stewart,” Angus said. “Ye will understand I canna sanction more.” Then he said, “I dinna expect to see ye for several more weeks.”
“I met my sire on the road, my lord. He is due in York shortly, but diverted his travels to come to Duin, as he will tell ye.”
“Fetch him, then,” the earl said.
Annabella was astounded that the powerful Earl of Moray would pause in his travels. “He hae hardlydivertedhis travels to see ye,” she said to her husband. “York is on the other side of England. He hae some other business in the west that he would bother to come here. Now I must know whether he is remaining the night, and surely he will. And how are we to feed that great troop he has wi’ him?” She began marshaling her servants and ordering them to prepare the largest guest chamber for Moray. She hurried down to the kitchens to advise the cook of their unexpected guests. Then she dashed back upstairs to her own apartments to put on a gown more suitable to welcoming Scotland’s regent than the old gown she was wearing.
Jean was waiting for her. She helped her mistress into a burgundy velvet gown trimmed in dark marten fur. The gown was one Annabella had worn at court two years ago. It was probably out of fashion by now, but would the regent Moray notice? Probably not. Jean quickly undid Annabella’s plait and styled it into a chignon.
“Do ye think he’ll arrest Angus?” she finally asked.
“I dinna think so,” Annabella said. “He is said to be a practical man. Duin poses no threat to him or the wee king. He’s simply curious, for while Donal Stewart says he met his sire on the road, he has obviously told him everything. Moray would confirm his son’s judgment in the matter.” She stood up and shook out her skirts. “Come into the hall and listen,” she said as she hurried out.
Angus Ferguson had been there to greet his guest as he dismounted his horse in the courtyard. “My lord of Moray,” he said, bowing. “Welcome to Duin Castle.”
Moray’s dark eyes flicked swiftly about, taking in everything. “I had not expected to find a structure of such size in this part of the land,” he said.
“The late queen mother, Marie de Guise, was kind enough to grant us permission for Duin,” Angus replied.
“Was that yer first connection wi’ the house of de Guise, my lord?” Moray asked.
“It is my only connection wi’ them, my lord,” Angus replied. “Please, will ye come into the hall? My wife will be waiting to greet ye.” He led the Earl of Moray and his small party inside the castle.
As they entered the hall Annabella came forward. She curtsied low to the Earl of Moray. “I bid ye welcome to Duin, my lord.” She stood.
