Malcolm Scott dismounted, saying as he did to the man, “I am the Laird of Dunglais, here at the queen’s command. My daughter and her companion travel with me.”
“I am David Grant, the queen’s captain at arms,” the soldier replied. “Aye, you are expected, my lord. If you and the ladies will follow me, I will take you to Her Highness.” He turned to the Scott men-at-arms. “You men stable your mounts and then you may come to the great hall to be fed. You’ll sleep with your horses. Ravenscraig isn’t a large dwelling.” He signaled to a soldier at arms, who came immediately. “Show the Laird of Dunglais’s men where they are to go and then bring them to the hall.”
“Aye, sir!” came the quick reply, but David Grant was already hurrying away with the guests.
“Your trip was an easy one?” the captain inquired pleasantly.
“Good weather always makes a trip smoother, especially when you travel with a woman and a child,” the laird answered as they entered the tower, following the captain up a flight of stairs to a second level into a great hall.
Another man wearing the queen’s badge hurried forward. He had an air of self-importance about him.
“This is the Laird of Dunglais and his family,” David Grant said to the man. Then to the laird, “This is Master Michel, the steward of Ravenscraig Castle. He will see that Her Highness knows you are here.” He bowed neatly to them and left.
The steward nodded to the laird and waved a servant to his side. “Go and tell Her Highness that her guests have arrived from the borders.” As the servant dashed away, Master Michel said, “I have a bedspace for you, my lord, here in the hall. The ladies must share a small chamber.” He signaled to another servant, who dashed to his side. It was obvious that those who served Master Michel were well trained. “Please take these two ladies to their assigned chamber,” he told the serving woman who had come in response to his silent demand.
“Da! He called me a lady,” Fiona said excitedly.
“Fiona,” Alix admonished, but she saw the steward’s quick brief smile out of the corner of her eye. “Come along now.” And taking the little girl’s hand, she followed the servant from the hall.
They were led up two flights of stone stairs to a narrow hallway. Down the dim corridor the woman trotted, finally stopping before a small door. She opened it and ushered Alix and Fiona inside. “You’ve a hearth,” she said proudly. “Her Highness likes her guests to be comfortable. I lit the fire earlier. There’s wood and peat both. Ah.” She turned at the sound of footsteps. “Here’s your trunks. Put it there at the foot of the bed, Finn, and you, Gordie, place yours beneath the window.”
The two servants did as they were bid.
“There’s water to wash the dust of your journey off,” the serving woman said. “Shall I wait, or can you find your own way back to the hall?”
“We’ll find our way,” Alix said. “Thank you so much for your kindness.”
The serving woman gave her a quick smile. It wasn’t often guests thanked her. She departed the small chamber, closing the door behind her.
“We will bathe and change our clothing. We do not want to meet the king’s mother dressed in our travel garments,” Alix said to Fiona.
“I liked it when they called me a lady,” Fiona told her companion. “They did it three or more times!”
Alix smiled. “I always felt special when I was your age and someone would refer to me as ‘my lady.’ I wasn’t, of course, but everyone in the household knew it pleased me. My father began it,” she remembered with a smile. “We must hurry now,ma petite.”
They quickly removed their travel clothing and bathed their hands and faces in the warm water they found in a pitcher in the hot ashes of the hearth. Then Alix helped Fiona into her scarlet velvet gown, and, after brushing the child’s long dark hair, outfitted it with a matching ribbon with tiny freshwater pearls about her forehead. She made Fiona sit upon the bed while she quickly dressed herself in the green velvet gown she had made. Brushing her hair out, she confined it in a delicate gold caul. She found the little chamois bag and took two thin gold chains from it, putting them over her head. The gold took away from the severity of the deep green of her gown. She then pulled out her rings, slipping them onto her fingers. Rings were an important accessory, and many women wore them on every finger, and the most fashionable wore several rings on each finger, fitting them onto each joint. Alix had five rings. She wore three on one hand, and two on the other. They had been her mother’s but for one that her father had given her.
“I wish I had jewelry,” Fiona sighed wistfully.
Alix reached into the bag and drew out a long strand of pearls. “These were my mother’s,” she told the child as she looped them twice over Fiona’s head. “You may have the loan of them only, but they do show nicely on your red velvet.”
Fiona flung herself at Alix and wrapped her little arms about the older woman’s neck. “Oh, Alix, I do love you! I wish you were my mother! Thank you!”
Alix hugged the little body against hers back. “I love you too, Fiona,” she said. Then she untangled them, saying, “We must return to the great hall. The queen will certainly have come by now, and your father will be wondering what happened to us.” Taking Fiona’s hand in hers, Alix led them downstairs and back to the hall.
Marie of Gueldres was already there and in light conversation with the laird. She was a lovely woman of medium height who still retained a good figure despite the six children she had born her late husband. Her complexion was a light olive in tone, and her hair was jet black. She had fine amber-colored eyes. She was known to be intelligent, educated, and devout.
Alix led Fiona to where the queen and the laird sat. Then she waited politely to be acknowledged. The widowed queen did not wait. She turned almost immediately, smiling at them. The laird came at once to his feet and drew his child forward.
“Madame, this is my daughter, Fiona,” he said.
Fiona curtsied prettily as Alix had taught her.
“What a lovely child she is, my lord,” Marie of Gueldres said. “Welcome to Ravenscraig, Fiona Scott. We are pleased to see you.”
“Merci beaucoup, madame la reine,”Fiona answered easily.
“Vous parlez Français, m’enfant?”Queen Marie smiled.
