Briefly she felt despair, but then she decided thatwhile her half sister, if put into this situation, would probably have died of shame within a week, she was not Bess. She was Adair Radcliffe, and she was stronger.
Life had given her oatcakes when she wanted sweet cake. Well, she would eat her oatcakes, grow stronger, and find a way to get her sweet cake again. Conal Bruce was having his needs well cared for right now, thanks to Elsbeth, Flora, Grizel, and herself. But because Grizel had very sharp ears, Adair had learned that Conal Bruce would have to free her and Elsbeth in a year and a day’s time, for that was the law of the Michaelmas fair.
And if they chose not to remain at Cleit he would be out of luck. She had until then to gain his true affections so that he would marry her. It was difficult to admit to it, but Adair knew she would not be going back to Stanton.
Elsbeth was right: Stanton no longer existed. Their life was here in the borders of Scotland. At Cleit. The winter came, and it was a bitter one.
And then with the spring a visitor came to Cleit. He was Alpin Bruce, the laird’s cousin. Tall, and perhaps a bit too handsome, with dancing amber eyes and rich chestnut hair, Alpin Bruce arrived just as the sun was setting one late April day. The laird greeted his kin, but Adair noticed there was little warmth in the greeting.
Nor did Duncan Armstrong or Murdoc Bruce appear very glad to see the man. But the laws of hospitality made a place at the high board for the visitor. As the three women brought the food from the kitchen and placed it on the table, Alpin Bruce’s eye lit on Adair.
“Who are the wenches? I had heard all your serving women had left you after your mother died,” Alpin Bruce said.
“Adair is my housekeeper,” the laird replied tersely.
“And my mistress, cousin.”
“Indeed,” his guest remarked with a grin. “Is she as capable in bed as she seems to be in the hall, cousin?”
“I am efficient in all I do, sir,” Adair snapped.
“Adair! Go to Elsbeth. Flora and Grizel will serve theboard,” the laird said sharply. He knew his cousin, and he didn’t like the way Alpin was eyeing Adair.
“Yes, my lord,” Adair said, tartly sketching a curtsy, and she withdrew.
Alpin Bruce laughed. “A spirited lass, I can see. Have you had to take a strap to her bottom yet? Taming her must be a pleasure, cousin.”
“Adair is amenable, but not easy,” the laird told his cousin. “And I do not beat my women, as I have heard it said that you do. I like a spirited lass.”
Alpin Bruce smacked his lips at Adair’s retreating form. “I envy you the long winter nights you have had this year, Conal,” he said.
“Why are you here?” the laird asked bluntly.
“What?” Albin Bruce pretended to be insulted. “Can I not come to visit my favorite cousin without there being some ulterior motive for it?”
“Nay, you cannot,” Conal Bruce answered him.
Alpin Bruce laughed. “Well, as a matter of fact I have come on a mission. Old Jamie sitting in Stirling has decided that he hasn’t hoarded enough wealth while good Scots folk starve. He is demanding the revenues of Coldingham Priory.”
“What?” The laird looked genuinely startled.
“Aye, he wants them, and says he will have them,”
Alpin answered.
“But those revenues belong to Lord Home,” the laird said. “They have always belonged to the Homes.”
“King Jamie will have them for whatever purpose he desires. Perhaps another musician, or silk garments for his new favorite, or mayhap he will build another castle, but nay. Not that. Cochrane was hanged, wasn’t he?”
Alpin Bruce laughed.
“But how does all of this concern me, for surely you haven’t come just to bring such news? What do you want, Alpin?”
“Lord Home plans to defend his rights to Coldingham, and needs to know his friends are willing to sustainhim. He has already gained the support of the Hepburns, the Red Douglases, the Campbells of Argyll, and the bishop of Glasgow, among others.”
“Is Lord Home planning to go to war then?” Conal asked dryly.
“If he must,” came the answer. “If King Jamie is allowed to seize the revenues of Coldingham from the Homes, who will next suffer financial ruin at his greedy royal hands? He must be stopped now. It is rumored that some of the earls would set the king aside and put his son upon the throne. The young James is a grand laddie.”
