“Michel said we had guests, Mama,” the boy said.
The queen presented the laird, Alix, and Fiona to him.
“Would you like to come and play with me?” the king asked Fiona. “I like chess. Do you like chess, my lady Fiona?”
“I have never played,” Fiona said, cast down. Then she brightened. “But I am learning French, Your Highness.”
“But I shall teach you!” the king told her. “And you will practice your French with me. My mother spoke French in her homeland. I speak very good French.”
“I should like that, Your Highness,” Fiona told him.
“Come along, then,” the king said. “You don’t want to play with my brothers. They are much too rough for a fine young lady as yourself.”
“Jamie plays with lasses,” Alexander, the eight-year-old Duke of Albany said with a sneer, and his two brothers, David, the Earl of Moray, and John, the Earl of Mar, snickered and punched each other.
“My lords, the king seeks to make a guest welcome,” Adam Hepburn said. “You might learn from him.”
“I know what you are and what you do,” the young Duke of Albany said with a leer. “There are no secrets, my lord.”
“Alexander!” the queen admonished her second-born son. “Apologize to Lord Hepburn at once.”
“Your pardon,” the boy said with a sneer, and then he led his two younger brothers off across the hall.
“He is jealous,” Adam Hepburn said softly. “He thinks he should be king.”
“My lords and my ladies,” Michel, the queen’s steward, called, “the meal is served.”
“You will sit at the high board with us,” the queen told the laird.
Alix moved discreetly away, but the queen called to her.
“Nay, Mistress Givet. You will sit with us. I know it is two years since you have seen my kinswoman of Anjou, but you must tell me what you know nonetheless.”
The meal was served quickly and efficiently. Alix was surprised at the simplicity of it. There were prawns that had been broiled in sweet butter and wine with a sauce of mustard and dill. There was a fish she could not identify, which the queen proudly told them was caught fresh that morning. It too was broiled, filleted, and served upon a bed of crisp cress with pieces of lemon. Alix hadn’t seen a lemon in several years, although they were always available at the English court’s kitchens. Fat capons roasted golden and sauced with oranges and raisins came next along with ham and venison. There was a potage of vegetables, peas, carrots, leeks, and beets in a cream sauce tasting of rosemary. The bread was fresh. There was butter and several cheeses. How long had it been since she had seen a Brie? Alix asked herself. At Dunglais there was hard yellow cheese. It was tasty but it wasn’t Brie. She indulged herself shamelessly until she caught Adam Hepburn grinning at her. Alix blushed, and he chuckled.
“The fare in the borders, I know, is hardly grand,” he said.
“Fenella does well enough for us,” Alix replied, “but growing up in my godmother’s court I grew to love the different cheeses that were available to us.”
“It must seem strange living such a rustic life after the life you have lived,” Adam Hepburn said. “Yet you seem happy, Mistress Alix.”
“The last few years were so chaotic,” Alix told him. “The king’s bouts of madness grew worse. The Yorkist faction jockeyed for precedence over the king’s men. Battles were fought back and forth, and we were never certain that we were safe. The queen was particularly frantic for Prince Edward’s safety.” She sighed. “And then my mother died. She was one of the queen’s ladies and had been with her since they were both girls in Anjou. She had always been so hearty, but suddenly she was tired all the time. My father knew that even if he could take us back to a quieter life in Anjou she would die sooner than later. All those years of looking after her mistress had taken their toll upon her health. She died just before we were finally forced to flee north.”
“I am sorry,” Adam Hepburn said. “It is always the women and children who suffer in these wars we men create. Your father is gone now too, and you have become orphaned. You had a husband, I am told, and he too is dead.”
“Gracious!” Alix exclaimed. “When you put it all together, and I am the only one left standing . . .” She looked momentarily distressed.
“You are a survivor,” he told her. “There is nothing wrong with being a survivor, Mistress Givet. Better to survive than not. Have you become your laird’s mistress?”
“My lord!”Alix’s fair skin grew quite pink with her blushes.
Adam Hepburn laughed. “You are a survivor,” he repeated.
“I am not that kind of woman,” Alix began, but the Hepburn lord shook his head.
“Nay, you are not. I can see that. You love him, but being a wise woman you have said nothing. He loves you, you know. His eyes follow you everywhere.”
“Oh no, my lord!” Alix said. “He was cruelly betrayed by his wife. He will not love or trust again any woman.”
