A friendship with the king might give a son a place at court in the king’s guards. Or, if he were scholarly, among the king’s secretaries. Without the friendship of an important and powerful man our sons could spend their lives roaming the borders, raiding, wenching, and drinking. That is not what I want for my sons. And I want any daughters I bear you to make good marriages.
If their father is friends with the king their chances are far better than if their father is simply a border lord of no importance.”
“I had no idea that you were so ambitious,” he said slowly.
“All women are ambitious when it comes to their bairns, Conal,” she answered him with a small smile.
“We do the best we can, but we always want better for our bairns, my lord. It is in our nature, I fear.”
Now it was his turn to laugh. Then he said, “I will leave all of this in your most capable hands, my honey love, for the truth is I am naught but a humble border lord of no particular importance who has obviously married far above his station.”
They stopped once to relieve themselves and rest thehorses. They chewed on oatcakes to still their hunger pangs, and sipped whiskey from a flask to force some warmth into their bodies. Adair could no longer feel her feet, and her hands holding the reins of her horse felt icy and stiff. Not to mention her bottom, which ached. She wanted nothing more than a hot bath, which she knew she would be unlikely to obtain in a house full of guests come to be with the king.
Finally, as the winter sun was setting over the western hills, they reached Hailes Castle. It was not a large dwelling, but it was certainly bigger than Cleit. Their horses clumped across the thick wooden drawbridge, which lay over a frozen moat, and into the courtyard of the castle. Patrick Hepburn himself came to greet his guests as their horses were taken away to the stables.
“Welcome to Hailes,” the Earl of Bothwell said.
“Come into the hall, all of you.” The sweeping gesture of his arm included the Cleit men at arms. “There’s food and drink for all.” He kissed Adair’s little gloved hand.
“I apologize that my wife is not here to also greet you, but she is near her time and unwell. She awaits us in the hall.” He ushered them inside.
“I was not aware you had a wife,” Adair said quietly.
“Aye, Janet Douglas. She’s the daughter of the Earl of Morton. We wed earlier this year, right before Sauchieburn,” the earl said.
“And she is not well? I am sorry,” Adair replied.
They entered Hailes’s great hall, with its two large fireplaces burning high and bright. It was warmer here, Adair was relieved to find, than the corridors of the castle. Still, she thought it would be a day or two before she completely thawed out from their long ride. She followed the earl to one of the hearths, where a young woman sat in an upholstered high-backed chair, a small black-and-brown terrier at her feet.
“My angel,” the earl said. “This is Conal Bruce, the laird of Cleit, and his wife, Adair. They have come to pay you their respects.”
The Countess of Bothwell looked up at them and smiled a warm but wan smile of greeting. Adair understood why her husband addressed her asmy angel. Janet Douglas Hepburn was petite and fragile, with pale blond hair and light blue eyes. Her belly was enormous with the child she was carrying. “You are most welcome to Hailes,” she said in an almost ethereal voice. “I do not envy you the ride you have had this day. Even here inside the castle I feel the winter’s cold.”
The laird bowed, and Adair curtsied to the earl’s wife.
“When is your bairn due?” Adair asked her, and saw out of the corner of her eye that her husband and their host were moving away.
“Shortly, the midwife tells me,” Janet Douglas Hepburn replied with a sigh. “Sit down and keep me company, unless you wish to join your husband or the other ladies who are all crowding about the king.” Her blue eyes twinkled. “He has been eagerly awaiting your arrival,” she said.
“I think I will remain with you, madam,” Adair responded. “Conal is a jealous man, and has grumbled at me the entire ride over the king’s kindness to me.”
The Countess of Bothwell laughed, albeit weakly.
“Jamie has charm, I will admit. He is a really wicked laddie. He attempted to seduce me into his bed just before Patrick and I were wed, the young wretch.”
“I am relieved to say he has not approached me in that manner,” Adair lied.
“Yet,” the Countess of Bothwell said with another twinkle. “Sit down, my lady Adair, and keep me company, as you are not of a mind to join the others. Have you bairns of your own?”
“We lost a daughter, Jane, last winter,” Adair said.
“But we are so recently wed that there is time for others. Conal said we could not come if I was with child. So I never told him I am. He will come in late summer, I imagine.”
Janet Douglas Hepburn laughed softly. “You are astrong lass,” she said. “I wish I were, but I am not. ’Tis most unusual for a Scotswoman. Patrick should really not have sought to wed me, for I am frail, as you can see.
My mother did not want it, but I did. I fell in love with him the first time he came to Castle Douglas and I saw him. I pray daily for a son, for if this bairn does not kill me it is unlikely I will ever have another.”
“Oh, madam!” Adair cried. “Why would you say such a thing? My stepmother, Queen Elizabeth Woodville, was petite and dainty like you, and she gave my sire ten bairns.” She crossed herself quickly. “This is your first child, and you are concerned.”
